Amazon Foundling
by Southern Hearts
Summary: AU. Going to China early in their training trip, Genma dies, leaving his young son to be brought up by the Amazons. Eventual RA.
1. Here's Ranma!

**Here's Ranma!**

He panted a little as he dragged the large man behind him. Every muscle in his small body hurt from the exertion and he had staggered more than once, nearly falling face first in the dirt. He looked up at the gate to the village; it was the closest civilization on the map, so this must be the place. He looked at the man he pulled.

He had strapped him, _his father_ , to a make shift stretcher made from roughly cut pieces of bamboo and any bits of wood and leaves he could twine together. It wasn't the most sturdy of structures and had broken apart several times during the trip, forcing the boy to stop and repair it. They had been travelling in this style for three days now, ever since the old man had taken ill. He wondered to himself why he should feel pity for his father, not after…

He shuddered and took another step forward, every ounce of him hurt and he wanted nothing more than to collapse right there and sleep, but he knew he couldn't. Even if he didn't have to get help, sleep was not an option. Sleep meant dreaming and he _really_ didn't want to dream again.

"Stupid Pops," he muttered, choking back the tears that threatened to fall, "Stupid, stupid old man."

He sniffed and pulled, he could feel his father moan feverishly as he was dragged across the gravely dirt road. The stretcher caught at one stage, halting the boy in his tracks.

He grunted and pulled hard, but it wouldn't budge. It must have caught on something like a rock or an out growing root. He pulled harder and lost his footing, falling to the ground, skidding his knee and tearing the leg of his already tattered gi. He gritted his teeth and tried to get up, despite his tired arms. He couldn't give up! A martial artist never gave up, never quit! He wasn't about to do either. Not now when he was _so_ close. Taking a deep breath, he struggled to his feet, only to find a spear pointed directly at his throat. He looked up and came face to face with a Chinese guard. He raised his head and squared his shoulders, mustering up more courage than he thought he had left in him.

" _Please_ …" he chocked out in rough Chinese, he searched desperately for the words he needed, " _I need help_."

 **~R1/2~**

Khu Lon patted her great-granddaughter on the head affectionately, the eight year old girl beamed with pleasure at her great-grandmother's praise. Her long purple hair shone in the sun as she set her eyes on the next target.

Shan Pu was turning into perhaps one of the Joketsuzoku's brightest and best warriors. She had a natural talent for reading her opponents moves and knew how to strike at the most opportune moment. Her skills rivaled those some three years her senior and her flair for life made Khu Lon proud.

" _Is this right, great-grandmother_?" the child asked sweetly, her voice like a chiming bell.

" _Yes, yes_ ," the elder said with an affirmative nod, " _You have achieved that quite well, my child_."

Looking happy and contented, Shan Pu returned to her training, her sparing partner looked a little tired, but was as ready as any true born Joketsuzoku girl to take up the fight once more. Khu Lon relaxed back into her seat as she watched the training. It was so nice to see the younger generations learning the ancient arts of the village.

The village of the Joketsuzoku – or the Amazons - had prospered much in all its period of existence. Through out the years they had remained strong against all opposing tribes whilst keeping to their ideals. Theirs was the only tribe in all of China whose warriors were made up almost exclusively of women. Though the men had their own training regimes and work, the village was largely run and protected by the female gender.

When Khu Lon was a young girl she had trained and fought for her land and for her people. She had been taught well and had eventually made her way up to being on the Council of Elders. It was a privilege she hoped another in her line, perhaps her grand daughter or one of her great-granddaughters, would someday earn. She also knew that the road to such a position was a steep one to travel and she wanted only the most prepared of her descendants to take it.

" _Elder Khu Lon! Elder Khu Lon_!" she turned in surprise to see one of the border guards running towards her, a frantic look on his face.

" _What is it?"_ she asked the man, her eyes blinking widely in curiosity.

" _An outsider_!" the man exclaimed, " _He is at the gates, there is a child with him_."

Khu Lon frowned.

Outsiders did not often dare come near the village of the Joketsuzoku, those that did were usually young men who wished to challenge one of the village women for a place In the tribe. She knew why the guard had been so frantic though, outsiders were only permitted with an elder's permission and the only reason this would be of any urgency is if the man or indeed the child were a threat or injured.

Deciding that she could probably deal with any danger one man and a child posed, she came to decision quickly.

" _You may let him in_ ," she said, rising to her feet in the age-old grace granted to her through years of practice, " _Bring them both to me_."

She smiled reassuringly at Shan Pu, gesturing for her to continue with her training. The young girl looked momentarily curious and concerned, before shrugging it off and returning her attention to her opponent.

Khu Lon cast one last look at her descendant before following the young man out of the training grounds. She felt oddly excited about the news of an outsider suddenly appearing at the gates. It was strange, but it was as though every martial artists instinct in her bones was vibrating with anticipation.

Why, she could not tell.

 **~R1/2~**

Khu Lon was presented with the most peculiar sight; a bald man was brought in on a stretcher, his skin pale and his body limp. He was blinking around the hall Khu Lon had decided to receive the outsiders in with absolute bewilderment. His breathing appeared shallow and he kept muttering to himself in incoherent babble.

Frowning, Khu Lon took her staff and walked over to the man, examining him with a scrutinizing eye.

" _Take him to a healer immediately_ ," she said to the stretcher-bearers, " _This man is sick_."

Her word was obeyed without question, but what surprised her was someone she hadn't noticed was there. As though he had appeared out of thin air, Khu Lon found herself face to face with a young boy of perhaps seven or eight years of age. He had a head of long, dark hair, which was tied back in a short braid. His face and arms were covered in scratches and his gi was torn and coated in spots of blood and dirt. He remained perfectly still though, looking determinedly at the ground, though Khu Lon recognized the faint quiver that ran through him despite his obvious efforts to not shake.

" _Child_ -?" she began, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth the boy's head snapped up and she was met with the most startling pair of blue-grey eyes she had ever seen. Like a stormy sea, wild and untamed.

He took a cautious step back from her, his eyes filled with mistrust and a spark of fear.

"Get away! You-you old ghoul!" he said defensively, in a clearly foreign tongue.

Khu Lon sighed.

A _Japanese_ boy, and an impolite one, that was all she needed.

"I will not harm you child," she said in Japanese, trying to soothe the boy. As soon as she switched languages he seemed to relax a little bit, "Your father, I'm assuming, is quite ill. He has been taken to the Healer's Hut. Can you tell me what happened?"

The boy seemed to hesitate.

"Pops got sick a few days ago," he said, "I dunno what happened, it was right after he-he-"

The boy sniffed a little bit, clearly unwilling to carry on for fear of crying. Khu Lon looked on the child with pity, a boy he may have been, but in need of her he was.

"What is your name?" she asked instead, "Why are you in China?"

The boy licked his lips nervously, his eyes starting to wander around the hall for escape despite the two guards that were at the entrance. Khu Lon watched him curiously, a guess as to the boy's purpose in China already forming in her mind.

"Ranma," he said finally, if a little hesitantly, "My name is Ranma Saotome of the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts. I'm on a training trip with my Pops."

He stopped then, the whole of the first line appeared to be well rehearsed, but Khu Lon wasn't really paying too much attention to that. Her only concern was when she heard the name of the boy's school.

The Anything Goes School of Martial Arts.

 _Happosai._

She couldn't prevent the feelings of bitterness and rage that came with the memory. At one stage in her life she had truly believed that the man, the so-called _Grand Master_ of the Anything Goes School, had cared for her. But he had turned out to be no more than a pervert. The man who had been brought in had clearly been no Happosai, but that didn't mean he wasn't one of his disciples. She scrutinized the boy with something of a pitying gaze; the child had no idea who he was dealing with.

"Who are you?" the boy asked bluntly, his eyes still roving for an escape route.

"I am…" she paused, attempting to find the Japanese equivalent of her name, "Cologne. I am an elder of the Joketsuzoku."

"The who?" Ranma asked, his curiosity appearing to get the better of him.

"The Amazons," she said, cheering at the thought of the boy finally being able to open up a little, "We are a tribe of warriors, particularly female warriors."

Ranma frowned in confusion.

"But Pops said martial arts aint no place for girls!" he protested weakly.

Khu Lon – or Cologne - smirked in amusement.

"Is that so?" Cologne asked, feigning shock, "Well, perhaps you should fight one of us girls and see whose right."

The boy mumbled something under his breath.

"What's that?" she asked, resisting the urge to poke him in the stomach with her cane.

"Pops says," Ranma said with mortification, "That it aint right to fight girls!"

"Truly?" Cologne almost chuckled, she hadn't been so amused in years, "And why is that?"

"Cause-cause-" the boy trailed off, frowning as he thought, "Ya know, Pops never told me why, he just said it aint right. He said real men don't fight girls."

"Well Ranma," Cologne said carefully, "I don't think its right to just fight a girl, or anyone really without cause. So if it was a training session or if your fighting for something, then it should be okay, wouldn't you agree?"

Ranma seemed to think this over and nodded in enthusiastic agreement, his blue eyes starting to shine a little bit. Cologne smiled herself, but was slightly worried not only over the child's appearance, but also his unwillingness to discuss what had happened to put him in that state. There was another feeling she had around the boy; anticipation she thought. A kind of excitement she had never known before.

"What's gonna happen to me and Pops, Elder Lady," he asked her out of the blue, "He's gonna be alright, aint he?"

Cologne looked at the boy in surprise and realized just how vulnerable he was. She sighed deeply and gave the boy an encouraging smile.

"I'm sure he will be," she said, "But in the mean time, shouldn't we try to get a message to your mother?"

At this the boy looked extremely confused.

"I don't think I've got one," he said, "Pops aint never said nothing about a mother."

Cologne resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the boy's bad grammar and instead decided to feel pity for the motherless child. There were a number of reasons the boy was alone with his father, the mother might be dead, or his parents may have been estranged. Whatever the reason, until the father was well again it appeared that this boy was to be her responsibility.

"Well I-"

" _Grandmother_ ," a soft voice called from the door to the hall, Cologne pursed her lips as Mei, Shan Pu's mother and her granddaughter, entered the hall. Dark blue hair fell down her back and she looked surprised at the presence of a child.

" _Oh I am sorry_ ," she apologized immediately, " _I thought_ -"

" _Can I help you Mei_?" Cologne asked in a tired voice, wanting to get back to the situation at hand.

" _Its nothing important_ ," Mei's eyes were on the boy, " _Is he alright, grandmother? He looks hurt._ "

Khu Lon sighed.

That was her granddaughter. Mei was perhaps not the strongest fighter in the Amazon tribe, but she was the most ideal caregiver. There were few women born into the world with a true spark for being a mother to everyone and Mei had inherited the gift. Cologne didn't mind too much though, the gift had been her own mother's and she welcomed the remembrance of the remarkable woman.

" _He appears to have had a rough trip_ ," Cologne said finally, " _His father is currently in the Healer's Hut._ "

" _Oh_ ," Mei bit down on her lower lip, " _Would you like me to get him cleaned up Grandmother? Get him some new clothes and a proper meal perhaps? The poor dear looks like he may need one_."

Cologne contemplated the offer and nodded her consent; she doubted she would get much out of the boy in any case.

"Ranma," she said in Japanese, "This is my granddaughter Mei. She will take you to where you can get a hot bath and some food."

At the mention of food, almost unsurprisingly, the boy's face lit up and he looked at Mei expectantly. But as soon as his expression had perked up, it too fell.

"But-" he began.

"It's okay," Mei said, switching to Japanese without much effort, "We'll go see your father in a little while."

That magical expression crossed the kind woman's face and Ranma nodded in immediate agreement. Cologne smiled, her granddaughter certainly had the knack for calming down even the most traumatized of children and _traumatized_ Ranma was. The young Japanese boy took a few hesitant steps towards the smiling woman, until he could be gently led away from the hall.

Cologne tapped her wrinkled chin. The excited feeling was still there in her gut, there was something about the child that was certainly interesting.

 **~R1/2~**

Shan Pu glared at the young boy from across the dinner table; he was quite happily nuzzling down the food her mother had prepared for their evening meal. There was an annoying grin of contentment on his face when he dared ask for more and her mother gave it to him, a smile of her own spreading. Shan Pu didn't bother to ponder the strange boy; she had returned home that evening to find him sitting in a corner by the kitchen whilst her mother prepared supper. His face was bruised and covered with scratches, but he didn't seem too fazed by it. He had stared at her for several long moments in surprise before Mei had introduced them.

"Hi," he said afterwards, waving a hand in greeting, but the worst thing was when he tried to pronounce her name, "Shampoo."

She was certainly not impressed.

The fact that her family was entertaining an outsider, _and an outsider male at that_ , was enough to make her stomach squirm.

" _Where is great-grandmother_?" she asked her mother, pointedly ignoring the child.

" _She has things to attend to_ ," was all Mei answered.

Suddenly the boy spoke something in another language and Shampoo pouted as her mother answered in the same. She hated it when her elders spoke in other tongues around her and now this boy could too!

" _Why is this outsider here?"_ Shampoo glared at the boy, " _Why are you here_?"

" _Shan Pu_!"

She cringed and backed up from her mother's scolding gaze, looking down in spite of herself.

" _Sorry_ ," Shampoo looked up in surprise to see the boy looking at her, his blue eyes were big, but he had just spoken in Chinese, " _I don't understand good. Speak bad also_."

Mei looked delighted.

" _You speak Chinese Ranma_?"

The boy frowned as he tried to understand her words, but then he slowly nodded and responded in the same language.

" _My father want not learn_ ," he carried on in a clumsy voice, " _Been in China two months, got phrase book and tried learn_."

Mei smiled widely and started speaking to the boy in Japanese again. Shampoo sighed, her surprise wearing off and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She didn't like this boy, not one bit. Boys were weak and simple minded. They lacked the skill and finesse to be truly skilled warriors and were only good for the very basics of the art. Boys like that stupid Mu Tzu, who thought they could impress a girl just by showing how strong they thought they were. It was enough to make her sick.

Strong outsiders, like Shampoo's father, were a different matter though. They had overcome their meager male weaknesses and become true and powerful warriors. Unlike most Joketsuzoku males, outsider males who had won their right into the village were of a different sect. They taught their daughters to be strong and powerful, passing on their own skills as well as those of the Joketsuzoku, thus adding strength and power to the tribe. Shampoo was proud of her father. He was a strong man who had made his family and village only stronger. Little boys, however, had not earned that right.

She watched with indifference as her mother stood up from her place and gestured for the boy to follow her, telling her family she was taking him to see his father. The boy, Ranma, took one last fleeting look at Shampoo before leaving the room as well.

Shampoo crossed her arms in irritation.

 _Boys!_

 **~R1/2~**

Cologne looked at the man with pity.

His baldhead was drenched in sweat and he shivered uncontrollably as he muttered incoherent things. Every now and then Cologne thought she caught phrases like; "Make him the best," "Man among men," "Tendo girl," and "Join the schools."

With a sigh, she turned to one of the healers examining the man and raised an enquiring eyebrow. The healer just looked at the elder and shook her head, her eyes saying clearly that it was unlikely the man would make it through the night. Cologne almost groaned, if this man did not somehow pull through she would have to make arrangements to get the boy back to Japan and probably to an orphanage.

For some reason she felt this was not a good idea, but what other choice did she have if the child's father died? She had no right to keep the boy, even if she wanted to, and who would take him in? She was well over a hundred! She couldn't possibly be expected to take care of a sniveling outsider, even if he was an Anything Goes trainee.

She wondered why she felt any responsibility towards anyone associated with that school, especially after what Happi had done to her.

"Ranma…" the man started mumbling, "Where…is Ranma?"

To her shock, the man was looking directly at her as he said this, his beady eyes looking at her imploringly. Cologne, against all her better judgment, inched closer to the man and was immediately grabbed by the arm. Surprised, but also a little impressed by the martial artist's reflexes, she looked at the man questioningly. He was shaking from fever, but still managed to get out the words, as though he knew his final fate was not long off.

"Ranma…" he said, "Has to…succeed. Has to become…the best, has to…inherit school. Make him the best… _please_ …"

Cologne suddenly understood why the man had had his son drag them to this village. It wasn't to get help; it was to ensure Ranma would be trained. From the little she had gathered from the boy during their discussion, the man before her did not hold women in high regard. It must be out of pure desperation that he was here at all.

"Has to…be…the best…please…please… _please.._."

Cologne pursed her lips, considering the man before her. If she did train the boy it would go against many of her teachings. He wasn't of the Joketsuzoku for one and for another he was male. She couldn't possibly make an outsider male 'the best.'

 _Unless you adopt him as a_ _Joketsuzoku_ , a small voice reasoned in her head, _and besides, this might have some advantages._

Indeed, she reasoned, wouldn't it be fun to train one of Happosai's disciples to be better than him? What a surprise the old pervert would have should he ever choose to rear his ugly head. She almost smiled at the thought.

She then remembered the bruised, scratched up face of the young boy with the stormy grey-blue eyes and the look of well-masked vulnerability in them. Whatever this man had done to his son, surely it couldn't be worse than any training she could dish out?

"I will," she found herself saying before she could stop herself, "Ranma will be the best, I swear."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth though, she berated herself for it. Here she was, an elder of the Joketsuzoku, promising to train some slip of a boy whom she didn't even know had any potential or not. The other issue was getting him accepted into the tribe, if she adopted him it wouldn't be an issue, of course, but she would first have to prove that she had sound reason for doing so. Merely making a ridiculous promise was not going to cut it. She may have sworn to make Ranma the best, but most of it depended on the boy, she didn't even know if he had it in him.

She tried to calm herself, she shouldn't be thinking of this now. There was still a chance the boy's father would pull through. She felt his grip slacken on her arm as he drifted back into delirium, there wasn't much more she could do then allow the healers to do their work.

"Pops?"

She turned in surprise as Mei and Ranma entered the Healer's Hut, the boy immediately rushed to his father's side. At Mei's enquiring glance Cologne shook her head and the women gave him a sad look.

"Hey old ghoul!" Ranma said suddenly, turning to Cologne, "What's gonna happen to my Pops?"

Cologne pursed her lips tighter at the child's rudeness whilst Mei suppressed an amused smile behind her hand.

"The healers are doing all they can," she said shortly, "We'll just have to wait until morning."

Ranma frowned at her.

"He'll be okay though, right?" he enquired, though he betrayed no worry in his stance and voice, there was clearly some anxiousness in his expression, "I mean, the old man's pretty tough, he should make it through."

He studied his father's face for a moment, a little anger sparking into his eyes.

"Man am I gonna get him for this," the small boy said with surprising ferocity, "Can't say he doesn't deserve it though."

"Why do you say that, sonny?" Ku Lon asked curiously.

"He-" Ranma trailed off with a small shudder, "Never mind. Lets just say I aint letting him near a food store ever again."

He spoke as though he were babysitting an errant child and looked upon his father with as much irritation as a frustrated parent. Cologne wondered if the boy was merely trying to take his mind off the fact that his father may well be dying and she had the sneaking suspicion that the boy _knew_. Mei seemed to sense the same thing. She bit down on her bottom lip, seeking silent permission from her grandmother. The elder nodded her consent, her eyes only leaving the boy for a moment.

"Ranma," Mei said softly, "Why don't you spend the night at my house and tomorrow we can come check up on your father? How does that sound?"

Ranma was still looking at his father, his blue eyes impossible to read, but he turned to Mei and nodded his head in consent. He looked at Cologne again too and then back to his father. Without another word he looked away and followed the Joketsuzoku woman out of the hut again. Cologne gave a long-suffering sigh and silently prayed that the man would make it through the night.

 **~R1/2~**

Ranma lay awake in the bed the woman Mei had shown him to nearly an hour earlier. His mind was whirling with the day's events and he was trying to fight off sleep. He had been lucky, he knew, if his father had been well enough to get up to his usual antics he probably would have been kicked out of the village by now. He found he liked the Amazons he had met so far, even Mei's daughter, Shampoo. They had given him clean clothing, allowed him to bathe (the first he'd had in over a week) and tended to the wounds on his body. He now had some kind of funny smelling healing salve smeared all over him that was making the aches and pains in his muscles feel better.

Staring up at the ceiling he frowned, he was _so_ going to get the old man back for making him worry when he got better.

 _If he gets better…_

Ranma turned onto his side as a sick feeling came into his stomach; what was he going to do if his Pops _didn't_ make it? He didn't have any family, the only person he would willingly go live with was Ucchan and his father, but he didn't know where to find them. He smiled as he remembered his best friend and wondered if they would ever run into each other again. He didn't understand to this day why his father had taken Ucchan's cart, but he supposed there wasn't any harm in it. Ucchan had looked pretty sad when they had left, running after the cart like that.

There was the Tendos, of course, his father had always told him he was going to run the Tendo dojo one day. Ranma had liked the idea of teaching martial arts, but wondered if they would take him in without his being trained. He didn't even know where the Tendo dojo was, or even if his father had been telling the truth.

He rolled over again. There was, of course, the Amazons to consider; what would they do with him if his father didn't make it?

There was some underhanded reason his father had insisted on coming to this village before he became too out of it to even talk, Ranma knew there must be. Pops never did anything without a reason, even if most of them were for his own selfish gain. He wondered what the old man hoped to get out of it this time. Nothing good for him, he imagined.

Yawning, Ranma could feel his eyes starting to droop closed and try as he might, he couldn't rid himself of the tiredness. He tried shaking himself. Rubbing his eyes to keep them open, even sitting up in bed, though it made his body ache and yawned again. Eventually, though he dreaded it, Ranma fell asleep.

 **~R1/2~**

"No daddy! Please no!"

Mei's eyes snapped open at the fearful screams of the child. She sat up in bed immediately, her husband casting her a sleepy, but enquiring look. Mei gave him a reassuring smile before rushing out of their room and into the guestroom where she had placed Ranma. It was dark, but in the bright moonlight shining through the windows, she could see her young ward quite clearly. The small boy was tossing in his bed, moaning and crying in fear.

"I don't want to!" he cried, "Help! Help!"

Her mother's instincts took over in a thrice and Mei flung herself onto the bed, encircling her arms around the boy and hugging him as she whispered soothing words. He was surprisingly strong and almost knocked her away several times until he finally calmed down. She hugged him closer as he lay still, slipping into a quiet sleep once more. She wondered, not for the first time, just what this child had endured to make him this way.

" _Is he alright_?" she heard a rough whisper and looked up to see her husband, Lou Fe, standing at the door. She nodded, gently setting the boy back down to sleep. She got up and gestured for her husband to follow her, waiting until they reached the living room before she began to speak once more.

" _Something has happened to this boy_ ," she said slowly, " _I feel like he needs someone, like he needs me_."

Lou Fe looked at her thoughtfully. He wasn't a tall man, topping her by only a few inches. In the dim light his dark eyes were like two black pools, boring into her.

" _His father_?" he enquired.

" _May not make the night_ ," Mei looked at her spouse imploringly, " _I know it is much to ask, but should the boy's father not survive-_ "

" _You wish to take him in_?" Lou Fe finished.

" _We could give him a home_ ," she smiled, " _I have a good feeling about the boy. I think he is very brave and kind, he just needs a little help_."

Lou Fe gave her an exasperated look and then smiled softly.

" _When I was a boy_ ," he said slowly, " _My father always spoke of having strong sons_."

Mei was surprised.

" _And yet you end up in a village where girls are valued over boys_?" she asked him with a coy smiled.

" _The best decision of my life_ ," Lou Fe said, returning the smile, " _I have a beautiful wife and a smart, strong daughter. I am truly content. But should this boy be in need of a home, I would gladly offer ours, a son will be just as welcome._ "

Mei's smile widened.

" _But do not assume, Mei_ ," Lou Fe said sternly, " _The child's father may yet survive the night and perhaps recover. Even then, we will have to have an elder's blessing, if not permission, to adopt the boy_."

She nodded and hugged her husband. Having this man defeat her in combat had probably been the best thing that had ever happened to her. Like all Joketsuzoku women, she too had been cocky and sure of herself and her skills, but by being defeated and then cared for by this man, she had been humbled somewhat. She had never been more grateful for the fact.

" _Let's sleep_ ," she whispered, " _Nothing more can be done tonight_."

Neither, as they made their way back to bed, noticed their daughter listening in the shadows of the hallway, a sour look on her face. Shampoo watched as her parents disappeared into their room, dark thoughts roving around in her mind. She couldn't believe that after barely a day of knowing this-this _outsider_ , they would want to adopt him. _How embarrassing!_

She crossed her arms over her chest and made her way determinedly to where the outsider slept. She looked down on him in contempt. Not only was he an outsider, but he was male too. A pathetic, weak minded male. She watched him as he slept, glaring daggers at the boy. She wished she had a weapon on her, she'd put the outsider in his place, _she'd_ …

"Please…" she heard the boy moan softly, but didn't understand the word. She froze for a moment, wondering frantically if the outsider had woken up and noticed her there, but his breathing remained the same and his eyes didn't open. Curious, she took a step closer to his bed when he moaned again.

She jumped back in surprise and noticed that he seemed to be dreaming.

A bad dream at that.

She was just about to high tail it out of the room when he moaned again. He sounded so scared and vulnerable that she looked back at him. She sighed, cursing herself for a fool and gently reached over to stroke his head. The boy relaxed surprisingly well into her touch and she could almost feel a soft smile tug at her lips. She immediately withdrew her hand and hurried out of the room to her own bed, her head spinning as she berated herself angrily for doing such a thing.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid boy!_

 **~R1/2~**

Genma Saotome, father of Ranma Saotome, did not make it that night.

He died not long before dawn, having held on surprisingly well for someone with so high a fever. He passed on in his sleep and was buried two days later outside the village. The ceremony was short. No one knew anything about the man save for his son.

The boy in question kept silent. He had only spoken once since hearing the news of his father's demise and that was to tell the elders what his fathers name was to put on the tombstone. He stood apart from everyone as they buried him, as silent as the grave in which his father was being lowered into.

After the ceremony he was taken into one of the training halls where Cologne had a long discussion with him about what was to happen to him next. He learned that he was to stay with Mei and her family for now. Though he appeared surprised by this, he made no objections. The elder watched him; worry etched into her ancient face, but said no other words.

Ranma himself didn't know what to feel exactly. His father had not been the best father, not after all he had done to him, but he had still been _Ranma's_ father. His father had been a liar and a cheat. He had sold Ranma more than once for food and had made a million promises he never intended to keep. If Ranma had once had a mother, then the memory of her was buried down far too deep to ever recall.

The _special_ training Genma had put him through only a week before was still fresh in his mind and he was unconsciously rubbing the scratch marks from his encounter. He shuddered, the images were still so strong in his head he was sure they'd never leave him.

No, even at the age of eight, Ranma knew that Genma Saotome had not been a good father.

But that didn't make it hurt any less.

Thus, the life of Genma Saotome ended without much applaud, and the life of Ranma Saotome had all but begun.

He was now a Joketsuzoku.

 _An Amazon._


	2. A Price

**A Price**

" _He's barely spoken, grandmother_ ," Mei sighed as she looked out of the window, her deep blue hair was secured back into a loose bun and she had cake flour smeared on her cheek from cooking all day. Since Shampoo's birth, Mei had become something of a housewife, opting to rather cook for her husband than train in the fields.

" _It's only been a few weeks_ ," Cologne put forward wisely, " _You can't expect him to be over his father's death already_ …"

" _But he wont cry either_ ," Mei shook her head, adding a little more pepper to the soup, " _I know he's a strong boy, but not to shed a single tear? And the nightmares grandmother, he screams each night, shying away from some nameless terror. I've tried asking him about it, but he just deflects me_!"

She added in more pepper.

" _I understand_ ," Cologne said seriously, eyeing the soup pot a little nervously; just how much pepper was she adding to it? " _But until he's ready to open up, there is little we can do. We have no idea what horrors that boy and his father saw_."

" _His father_?" Mei scowled, " _Oh, I would like to give that man a piece of my mind_ …"

" _Respect the dead_ ," Cologne cautioned softly.

" _Respect_?" her granddaughter looked livid, " _Whatever dreams haunt the child now are completely and utterly that Saotome's fault!_ "

She kept adding pepper.

" _Isnt that_ -?" Cologne began, gesturing to the soup, but Mei was on a role.

" _I mean, there is only so much training you can put a small boy like that through_ ," she complained, all the while shaking pepper in the soup, " _I-I just wish I could_ …"

She trailed off and sighed yet again.

" _I don't know grandmother, what do the other elders say_?"

Cologne's lips pursed.

Here came the crutch of the matter. In the weeks since the child's arrival, Cologne had been defending her position tooth and nail. Her plan to foster the boy amongst them had been met with suspicion. She could not blame them on that score, she supposed. The boy was a stranger, practically blown in on the wind for all they knew of him. There was a strong belief that the best course of action would be to deliver him to the Japanese Embassy and be done with it. Cologne had found no passport or travel papers amongst the little belongings the boy and his father had brought with them. For she knew, they were both in the country illegally.

" _They do not like the idea of me training a boy_ ," she said slowly.

" _Training_?" Mei blinked, " _You want to train Ranma? Why_?"

" _The boy is an heir to Anything Goes Martial arts_ ," Cologne looked thoughtful, " _I knew someone a long time ago of the same school. He…disappointed me beyond any forgiveness. Its strange, but I feel like I could have a second chance with this boy_."

Mei's gaze softened.

" _I see_ ," she said and tapped her chin thoughtfully, " _Does the child have any talent_?"

" _I don't know_ ," Cologne admitted, " _But if he does, I will train him, despite what the other elders say._ "

Mei nodded, her thoughts turning to the small boy who had entered their home so abruptly. He was such a sweetheart, perhaps a little hesitant and brash, but sweet all the same. He seemed confused at first on how to act around females, but she had no doubts that he would adjust well into the tribe. If given the chance.

She stirred the soup.

" _Will you be staying for lunch, grandmother_?"

Cologne gave a start, eyeing the soup.

" _No, my dear_ ," the elder said lightly, " _I think I will wonder down to the training hall, see how the boy is holding up_."

Mei watched her grandmother leave, shrugged and took a sip of her soup. Her eyes watered as she spluttered on the peppery liquid and grappled for a glass of water.

 **~R1/2~**

Ranma scowled at Shampoo.

It had been three weeks since his father's death and the little Amazon girl had given him no peace. Though they could hardly understand each other, he understood quite well what she thought of him. Not one of her comments and snide looks had gone unnoticed by the small pigtailed martial artist. He had learned within the first few days of his stay in the village that boys were not thought of very highly and he felt more than a little annoyed by the fact.

He watched her practice her sparing and tried to keep a tight lip from criticizing her stance and her form. It was all he could do to get to his feet and show her _exactly_ how it was done. She stepped too wide and her blocks weren't fast enough, but for some reason, no one faulted her for it. The adults around her would smile and praise her progress as she defeated opponent after opponent.

Ranma found this odd. Pops had never given him a good word, only showed him how to do it better and when Ranma did succeed, all he got was the non-committal nod and maybe a smile. But that was how his father was and from a young age Ranma had learned to accept it.

At the memory of Genma Saotome, Ranma felt a funny pinching sensation in his chest. A small voice in the back of his head cried; _Daddy! Daddy's dead!_

Ranma squashed it, letting rage fill him instead.

 _Not Daddy_ , he berated himself, _Pops. The stupid old man is gone, nothing I can do about it_.

 _He left me all alone!_ The voice persisted.

 _I can take care of myself!_ He snapped back.

He brought up memories of the times his Pops had traded him for food.

 _But he always came back._

He remembered that Genma had never told him about his mother.

 _Maybe she's dead._

The pit then. _The pit!_

The voice had no answer for that and Ranma knew he had won the argument with himself.

But that just made him feel worse.

Returning his attention to the match, he watched as Shampoo took down yet another opponent and admitted reluctantly that she was marginally better than the other girls and even, on the rare occasion, boys she trained with. But, and this he couldn't help but give an internal, satisfied smirk for, he also noted that she wasn't as good as him. Half the things she did he had learned when he could barely walk.

He hadn't trained in three weeks, maybe longer, not since his Pops had taken ill in any case. He was silently glad for the short break to allow the worst of the cuts on his body to heal, but now he was growing restless. He _needed_ to train. He wanted more than anything to get up in one of the training halls and go over his forms. He felt lost without the daily routine.

However, he dared not train. He had seen how the boys in the village who wanted to be martial artists were treated. They were a joke to the community and the only way to effectively learn a martial art was to seek apprenticeship to a master in another village. For this, a boy needed permission from an elder and those permission slips came in far and few between.

He thought of the elders besides Cologne, the ones who watched him like they expected him to run off with one of their daughters or something. They seemed wary of him and Ranma couldn't for the life of him understand why.

So no, he didn't think he could get permission if he tried.

Maybe he'd leave on his own. He was pretty good at looking out for himself now and he was sure he could find food when he needed it. Maybe he could make it back to Japan. Maybe he could find Ucchan…

"You seem restless, sonny?" the annoyingly familiar voice of the village elder Cologne said at his side, disrupting his thoughts.

"Its nothing old ghoul," he muttered miserably, watching as Shampoo commenced another fight.

"You wish to train," Cologne said wisely, pointedly ignoring the boy's rudeness with mild amusement. She gave him a playful tap with her cane, "Why not go out there, sonny boy? Lets see what you can do."

Ranma frowned and rose to his feet, preparing to leave.

"I don't fight girls," was all he said as he left the training hall, barely noticing the amused gaze of the village elder that followed him.

 **~R1/2~**

"Hey! Wait up!"

Ranma turned in surprise to see a boy running after him. The kid was about his own age with long, dark hair and big, round glasses bouncing up and down on his head. Ranma paused to let him catch up, only to have the boy run past him to a nearby tree.

"Hey, you're the new kid," he said to the tree, "You're taller than I thought you were."

"Um," Ranma coughed, drawing the boy's attention towards him, "I'm over here."

The boy put his glasses on and blushed, whirling around to face Ranma, his cheeks flushed a little in embarrassment and he walked over with an apologetic look on his face.

"Oh right," he scratched the back of his head nervously, "Sorry about that, my eye sight isn't that great. I'm Mousse, by the way."

"Ranma," said Ranma, a small smile playing on his lips, "You speak Japanese real well."

Mousse grinned at the comment.

"Yeah," he said, "My dad is really proficient in languages and stuff. He made me learn."

"That's cool," Ranma ignored the pit in his stomach at the mention of a father, "So um, did ya need me for something?"

"Oh yeah, well you see," the blind boy looked a little sheepish, "I heard you were Shampoo's new foster brother."

Ranma just shrugged. Cologne had made no mention of him being sent back to Japan, so he supposed he was just staying here until the Amazons could think of something to do with him.

"Are you a martial artist?" Mousse carried on, not seeming to notice Ranma's expression.

Ranma was genuinely surprised by this statement and found himself nodding once more.

"Yeah," he said in disbelief, not having told anyone but the old ghoul about that, "How did you-?"

"The way you were watching the bouts," Mousse said smugly, "You looked like you knew every move the two fighters were going to make. You shook your head several times, always right before Shampoo beat someone. It was like you could see the end in sight. Either you watch way too much martial arts on TV, or you have experience."

Ranma could only nod.

"My-my Pops taught me," he muttered.

"Do you need a sparing partner?"

"Huh?" now Ranma was confused.

"None of the girls will spar with me seriously," Mousse continued, "I want to take an apprenticeship in a neighbouring village next year, but I also want to know I can become strong on my own. My mom's taught me some, but she's away a lot now. You need a practice partner, well so do I. We can help each other."

"I dunno…" Ranma began.

"Please!" Mousse begged, "I'll help you learn Chinese, I'll help you learn about the village, I'll do anything! Please!"

Ranma thought about it for a moment, it would be nice to be able to train again and he needed a male partner…it seemed like a win-win. He got to fight again and possibly get some help in learning Chinese.

"Alright," Ranma said, "You help me learn Chinese properly and I'll spar with ya! Deal?"

Mousse beamed and the two shook on it. Ranma grinned back, he wasn't quite sure yet, but he thought he might have made his first friend.

"So what do we do now?" Ranma wondered out loud.

"You want a tour of the village?"

Ranma nodded.

"Okay," he agreed, "That sounds-"

He suddenly froze, his entire body going rigid as his eyes caught sight of something.

"AAAHHHHHHHH!"

In an instant, Ranma shot himself up a tree, shivering and shaking like a leaf, Mousse looked around in shock for what had scared the boy, but all he saw within any close vicinity was…

 _A cat?_

 **~R1/2~**

Cologne rushed as soon as she heard the scream, but all she found was Mousse. He was a familiar face around her home, having had a long-standing infatuation with Shampoo since they were practically babies. The nearsighted lad had his glasses on for once and was staring straight up. Cologne followed his gaze to the boughs of nearby pine tree. There, clinging to one of the highest branches and shaking was Ranma. There were tears of fear in his eyes and he was as pale as a ghost.

"Child!" Cologne exclaimed, there was now a small crowd of onlookers coming towards her, "Whatever is the matter?"

Ranma looked down at her and pointed a shaking finger to something just beyond the tree. Cologne looked around, but her eyes only met the white fur of a stray cat.

"G-g-get it away!" the boy cried, "G-g-get that stupid c-c-c-that thing away!"

Cologne was confused, before her old mind started working into high gear. She hadn't seen a case like this in nearly a hundred years. In fact, she had thought the technique was sealed, how in the world…?

She snapped back, taking charge of the situation immediately.  
" _You_!" she said, pointing to one of the onlookers, " _Get that cat out of here. Now!_ "

" _Stupid boy scared of cats_!" Shampoo jeered with a laugh.

Cologne hadn't even noticed her great-granddaughter had followed her from the hall. For the first time, she felt a stab of fear in her heart. If her suspicions were correct, this situation could become very dangerous.

Perhaps the other elders were right about the boy.

" _Not now_!" Cologne snapped at her great-granddaughter, she looked up at Ranma, "It's okay Ranma, the cat is gone. You can come down now-"

" _Meow!"_

Cologne froze, her eyes going wide. She looked up the tree to see Ranma unfolding quite leisurely from his curled up position on the branch with a feline elegance and her heart stopped as she met twin catlike slits. She took an involuntary step back.

"I'm going to resurrect Genma Saotome, so that I can _kill_ him for this," she muttered ruefully, she then looked to the people around her and said more clearly, " _No one move a muscle!"_

The cat like Ranma flexed and meowed, but didn't attack. Then, just as Cologne was trying to think of a way to get out of this mess, Ranma shot off in a flash and disappeared from sight.

 _Damn it!_

" _Search the village_!" she shouted, " _And if you find him, call me. Do not, I repeat, do not touch him until I arrive. Now go_!"

She watched as all the gathered villagers dispersed, the same thing running through her mind as she jumped onto the nearest roof to get a better view. She hoped none of the villagers would be foolish enough to approach the boy in this state.

" _The Neko-ken_!" she muttered angrily, " _Of all the foolish things! He trains the child in the Neko-ken! Genma Saotome, you fool! You idiotic fool! Just like Happosai and even he wasn't_ _ **this**_ _stupid!_ "

She surveyed the village around her carefully and was relieved when she saw the small form of a boy moving on all fours towards… _her granddaughter's home!_ She immediately leapt from the roof and took off after the Saotome child. She hadn't had so much excitement in years and almost chuckled with exhilaration as she darted after him. Despite the clear danger of the situation, she was glad that the child had finally shown something of his previous training. It showed that he might have potential, though how she was going to convince the other elders now was beyond her.

She followed him to Mei's home and watched curiously as the boy bounded into the kitchen and immediately crawled his way onto Mei's lap. She had been sitting in the living room with a book in hand. Her granddaughter looked shocked by the action and stared at the boy in dismay.

"Ranma?" she said softly, but the small boy curled up tighter into a ball and purred. Then, as though on cue, tears started to fall down the small boy's cheeks and soon his purrs turned into sobbing tears as he reverted back to his human mind. He kept clinging to Mei though and crying.

"Daddy!" he sobbed.

Cologne gave a small smile, this time the Neko-ken had acted on its most pressing need.

The need for comfort.

Ranma had not grieved the death of his father and she was happy to see the tears come from the small boy. As Mei wrapped her arms around him, Cologne turned away, knowing that she needn't worry over controlling the Neko-ken. Ranma trusted Mei enough to allow her to calm him.

She left him to his tears, her mind working with new possibilities.

 **~R1/2~**

"… _.an adept of the Neko-ken!"_

" _He's too dangerous_!"

" _We should send him back to Japan_."

" _Lock him up! Lock him up!"_

" _It would be safer for the village_!"

Cologne listened patiently to the arguments of the other elders whilst keeping an entirely calm look on her face. She waited until they died down before she spoke.

" _I invoke the right of apprenticeship_ ," she said calmly and clearly, " _And eventual adoption_."

" _For who_?" one of the elder's asked hesitantly, though Colonge knew every single one of them suspected the answer.

"Ranma Saotome."

Chaos broke out.

"….. _against every law and tradition_!"

" _He's a boy_!"

" _You cannot adopt or apprentice a male_!"

" _Actually_ ," Colonge spoke out loudly, " _There is no law written by an Amazon that states the offer must be made to a female. It reads that the apprentice must be worthy. We only have laws dictating a male may not learn those techniques reserved in each family for women, there is nothing to stop me training the boy_."

" _Why do you want to do this_?"

" _I have a feeling about the child_ ," Cologne said truthfully, " _On his father's death bed I swore I would make him the best, I would not have done so if I thought he didn't have the potential. I gave my honour. I never go back on my word._ "

" _You would really train a male to be the best_?" one elder queried, " _Not your own great granddaughter, but the child of a stranger_?"

" _I will train Xian Pu to the best of her abilities and she will be one of the best in our village, I tell you that_ ," Cologne said testily, " _But Ranma will not only have Amazon training, I will send him out every year to masters across China, he_ _ **will**_ _be the best_."

" _You think he can handle so many different forms_?" one elder asked, clearly disbelieving.

" _He is a disciple of the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts_ ," Cologne decided to play on one of the Amazon's most basic desires; revenge, " _I'm sure you all remember the lecher Happosai_?"

There was a murmur of hatred around the room.

" _Imagine this, to train one of his own disciples to be greater and stronger than him and then to set him loose on the old wretch. Imagine the insult_."

Unsurprisingly, this idea the elders seemed to like.

" _What of the Neko-ken_?"

" _He has chosen a maternal within the tribe, my own Mei_ ," Cologne said firmly, " _He can be controlled_."

There was a chattering of murmured conversation as the assembly of women began discussing, bickering, shaking heads, shouting agreement and waving sticks in the air. Like most council discussions, it seemed like hours before the talk was done and silence finally reigned. Cologne waited patiently for their decision, her breath caught in her throat in anticipation.

" _Very well_ ," it was Lotion who spoke, she was probably the oldest of the elders assembled and highly respected amongst the tribe, " _You may train him, but there is one condition_."

" _I thought there might_ ," Cologne sighed inwardly and faced her comrade, " _What is this condition?_ "

" _If, when the time comes, Ranma is unable to defeat Happosai_ ," she paused, looking solemn as though she too did not like the condition, " _If he is unable to accomplish his purpose he will be useless to the tribe. Defeating Happosai will prove his final worth regardless of his gender. If he is unable to perform this task, you will execute him_."

" _What?"_ Cologne exclaimed, " _That is a harsh punishment for failure, he may not win the first time, it may take a few attempts to finally defeat the cur. Ranma is_ -"

" _He will never be a full Amazon_ ," Lotion said, " _Unless you plan to marry him to the tribe_?"

Cologne had thought about that, all she would have to do was betroth him to a girl until he had reached marriageable age, but that came with its own set of problems. Every Amazon girl she knew grew up dreaming of being defeated by a brave and strong outsider male. There were few families who would let their daughters give up on this dream. She had even thought of offering her own great-granddaughter, Shampoo, but the thought of making her marry someone she would very well be growing up with and living with as an adopted sibling made her stomach churn.

Cologne shook her head.

" _Then he will have to be adopted, but be warned Cologne; failure is not an option_ ," Lotion gave a weary sigh, " _I realize this is much to ask of the boy, but the only reason we have survived as a tribe this long is because we have preserved our secrecy. There are still many years before Ranma will have to face him, if the lech should appear again that is. You have the time to train him Cologne, but a price must be met. In exchange for the honour of being part of this tribe, despite his gender, he must give something up in return. Outsider males have given up their tribes and beliefs for centuries to be part of this; Ranma will be given no exception. He must either defeat Happosai, or die in the attempt; if he is unable to fulfil this, you must take his life yourself_."

It was unfair. Hypocritical and unfair. If Ranma were a girl, they never would have placed this condition on her. There was something else about his presence that irked these elders, though Cologne couldn't quite put her finger on it. But now she had time. He would become a fosterling of the tribe until the day he could walk proudly as one of them. It wasn't what she had hoped for, but it was something.

" _Ranma_ _ **will**_ _defeat Happosai_ ," Cologne said finally, her eyes hard, " _I have sworn that he will be the best and that is what I will make him. Ranma Saotome will be an Amazon, mark my words on this_."

 **~R1/2~**

Ranma sat outside the training hall, his arms curled around his legs and his knees pushed to his chest. Embarrassment flooded his cheeks red and he fought back even more tears than those he had shed in front of Mei and the old ghoul. It was the first time since his father had put him through the training that he had relapsed into that state.

The sight of the cat had brought it all back, every _single_ terrifying moment. The smell of fish, dirty fur and his own blood. Cats screeching and clawing at his flesh, him screaming, begging his father to let him out. He hated his father for it, hated him for the pain, for the humiliation and for the fear. He hated him most of all for leaving him alone to deal with it, alone in a place where he could only understand a few people, where most of them disliked him on sight and the rest ignored him as a nuisance.

He felt guilty then; his father was dead. Dead and gone. There was no one to blame, no one to take it out on, no one here to go all out with. He wanted to hit something, punch and hit so hard that it would hurt him too. He needed to feel something other than the pain in his chest and the guilt in his heart.

"Hello sonny," an aging voice cackled gently in his ear, "Where's Mei?"

Ranma gave a start, frantically wiping away the rogue tears that had begun to creep their way down his face.

"With Shampoo," he sniffed, remembering with a cringe the awkward moment when the annoying girl had walked in on him hugging her mother. The angry screech was still ringing in his ears.

"Ah," was all the Elder said and took a seat beside him on the ground, her walking stick propped up on her shoulder, "Do you know what happened to you today, sonny?"

Ranma winced.

"I turned into a cat," he said softly, biting down on his lip.

Cologne laughed.

"Not quite," she said with amusement, "You entered a type of berserker state, one that makes you act like a cat."

"Berserker?" Ranma turned to look at her in confusion, "What's that?"

She sighed, tapping her finger wearily on her cane.

"Difficult to explain," she said, "Traditionally, people usually develop the ability on their own, some are just predisposed to it I suppose. It usually comes out when they are extremely angry or in a life-threatening situation. The smell of blood has been known to be a trigger."

"I don't understand-" Ranma began.

"It's when a warrior becomes crazy in battle," she said, "He or she becomes unstoppable, without fear, without remorse. All they can do is fight and when it's over, they don't remember a thing."

Ranma's eyes widened at the description; is that was his father had done to him? Turned him into a monster? He remembered waking up in the back of a fish stall, full to the point of being sick, the place was wrecked and his father was wrapping him up in a blanket, trying to carry him away before the many shouting men could get to them. He remembered asking what had happened, he remembered his father's pale face, he remembered looking at a newspaper later and realizing he had lost three days.

"Your father," the Elder continued, "Subjected you to the Neko-ken, a technique that has been forbidden since its creation because of its many…disastrous side effects."

"Side effects?" Ranma dared ask in a trembling voice.

"An irrational fear of cats, psychological trauma and complete loss of sanity if it fails," she looked at him now, eyes taking a serious light, "The Neko-ken was designed by the Musk Dynasty a very long time ago. They were a race of people who had bred with animals and so had taken on those abilities. In the last days of that empire, the technique was created to maintain the bond between human and beast. It became an artificial method of creating berserkers and a flawed one. Instead of sending the adept into a rage, it creates an induced psychosis caused by their extreme fear of cats. Their strength, speed and prowess in battle are greatly increased, but they are at mercy to the instinct of the thing that they have come to fear most. Luckily the Dynasty fell before they could experiment with any other animals besides cats."

"How did Pops know about it then?" he asked curiously.

"The last copy of the Neko-ken was stored here for centuries, guarded and sealed," Cologne suddenly looked angry, "But a man came here, to my everlasting shame he tricked me and stole many of our treasures, included in this was the details of the Neko-ken. It is my belief, Ranma, that this man was your father's master, Happosai, Grand Master of the School of Anything Goes Martial Arts."

Ranma's eyes widened.

"I never heard Pops talk 'bout him," he said weakly.

Cologne snorted.

"The man was a cruel pervert," she hissed, trapped in some terrible memory, "Your father was smarter than I gave him credit for if he removed all association."

Ranma remained silent, unsure of how to carry on. In his head he was going over everything that had happened. Had his father known the Neko-ken was dangerous to learn? Probably. Had he cared? Probably not.

Guilt and hate struck him again.

"So what happens now?" he whispered, "Ya said berserkers couldn't be controlled, does that mean-"

"There is a way to control it," Cologne smiled at him kindly, "When an adept of the Neko-ken trusts someone enough, he allows them to calm him down and returns to his sane mind. You chose someone today who you trust enough to do that."

"Mei," Ranma said softly and swallowed hard.

"You can stay here, but there is a condition."

"Condition?"

Cologne sighed heavily.

"This is not something I would want to put on the shoulders of an eight year old boy," Ranma was about to protest, but she silenced him with a wave of her hand, "Don't argue sonny, you're not even old enough to shave yet let alone deal with what I've got to tell you, but beggars can't be choosers I suppose."

He watched as she readjusted the way she sat, never once taking her eyes off him. Her wizened face looked even more haggard all of a sudden. She looked like this was the last thing she wanted to be telling him.

"I've spoken with the Council," Cologne tapped her cane, "And they have agreed to let me take you as an apprentice, perhaps leading to eventual adoption into the tribe."

Ranms gaped.

"Why would ya want me for an apprentice?" he blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Because I think you have potential," she grinned ruefully, "Your father made you drag him here for a reason; he wanted you to be the best and I swore on his death bed that I would make you so."

Ranma just stared at her. His father was always, _always_ going on about him becoming the best, a man among men and a great martial artist. It was all he had ever known, all he had ever wanted. He had thought that dream was dead when his father died, thought it buried with him. No one else was going to push him like his father had and he had accepted that fact, but now…

"Why?" he chocked out.

Cologne regarded him, her expression gentle.

"Because I have a good feeling about you," she licked her lips," If there's one thing I've learned in all my years of life, it's to trust a gut feeling. I will teach you to be the best, if that is what you want."

Ranma blinked and opened his mouth to affirm his commitment, but then he remembered Cologne's words and his tongue suddenly seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth.

"And the conditions?" he asked carefully.

The Elder laughed, obviously pleased.

"Clever boy," she said approvingly, "Never take an offer at face value, that's your first lesson. Now the conditions; those are the tricky bits, but the Council won't agree otherwise. You see sonny, you're too dangerous now for us to just let loose on the world and you're also a boy which brings a whole set of problems all on its own."

Ranma grimaced.

"Sorry for bein' born a boy," he said dryly.

"You're forgiven," Cologne cackled, then seemed to sober up, "Point being, we are a tribe of women, any boys born to this tribe don't stay here long. They either take up a trade or they leave to be apprenticed somewhere else. Men can join the tribe only by defeating one of our warriors and marrying them, by doing this they prove themselves as worthy, as equals to a woman's power. Traditionally, women do not train men how to fight, they do not waste their time doing so. Our beliefs put the priorities of females above that of the male. Understand?"

Ranma frowned, but nodded.

"My intention is to train you in Amazon techniques as well as apprentice you out to as many different masters as I can find," her smile was back now, "Anything Goes means anything and everything it takes to win. An amusing school, but I always did enjoy that principle. Many women don't like the idea of me doing so, not without a reason that is."

"Reason?" Ranma repeated, his frown deepening.

"Happosai stole from us, humiliated us," she looked angry now, "It is the worst possible insult for a man to do this to an Amazon woman. The price for such an insult is death."

Ranma blinked, shirking away a little from the tiny Elder. He didn't think he liked where this conversation was going.

"We are a merciless race," Cologne said with a bitter smile, "I have seen enough of the world to know it, but it is who we are. Obstacles, as the saying goes, are for killing."

Ranma definitely didn't like the sound of this.

"I will not ask you to kill Happosai," she tapped her cane again, "It is not your offense to justify, but if you wish to learn under me, there will be a time when I will ask you to fight the man and win. You must defeat him and hand him over to the tribe for trial. That is the condition."

She had told him to go with his gut, well something in his gut was gnawing at him like crazy and he had to ask, he had to know the consequences of failing to complete such a task.

"And if I don't win?"

Cologne sighed.

"Then, as the Council will see it, there has been no reason to train you and your life will be forfeit," she looked at him sternly, "You will die."

The eight year old felt oddly calm about being threatened, he waited for the Elder to continue, and somehow he knew there was more.

"Your options sonny, are these," Cologne said, "You can choose to take the apprenticeship, learn all you need and maybe one day fight Happosai, if he is indeed still alive. Or the Council can lock you up so that your Neko-ken is never a danger to anyone; you will grow old and die alone in a cell. Or there's a third option."

"Third option?"

Cologne nodded, her face becoming solemn.

"If you tell me right now you want nothing to do with this I will have you on a boat to Japan by dawn tomorrow, safely away," she took a breath, "I cannot help you beyond that."

She lapsed into silence then and Ranma knew she was waiting for an answer. It was a lot to think about and Ranma had the funny feeling that he couldn't ask for time to do so. She wanted, _no_ , she _needed_ an answer right now.

The second option was out immediately, he knew he would die a lot sooner than Cologne obviously thought if he had to be confined to a cell for the rest of his life. The very idea of never venturing outside or learning the art made him shudder. The third option had more appeal to it. She was willing to risk the wrath of her peers to get him out of China, but then what? He didn't have any family, no one in Japan who would want him. The Tendos might take him, but he didn't know where they were or if they would indeed do so. The same for Ucchan, now he thought of it. It was a lot to rest on an assumption and he didn't want to end up in an orphanage somewhere, forever deprived of learning what had been his entire life.

So that left option number one, a harsh penalty if he failed, but a great reward if he succeeded. It would be a long time before he had to fight Happosai, if the man ever appeared, in the mean time he would be able to train, maybe he'd get to teach someday too, and he could stay close to Mei. He would also be close to his father's grave and despite all the bad feelings he had for the man, he was still his father and it was his obligation to remember.

He looked at Cologne, swallowed hard and sealed his fate.

"I accept the apprenticeship."

Cologne closed her eyes as though in pain and nodded, finally rising from her seating position.

"Good," she said softly then looked at him, "Go back to Mei now sonny, get some dinner and a good nights sleep. Tomorrow, your training begins."


	3. I Don't Fight Girls!

**I Don't Fight Girls!**

The months passed all too quickly for Ranma's liking; the seasons fading into each other until finally the bitter cold of winter descended upon the Amazons. Snow had been falling all night and now the entire world was covered in a thick, white blanket. The sun shone in a blindingly blue sky overhead, making the snow glisten. A beautiful sight to be sure.

It was still very cold though.

Ranma huffed as he carried the boulder through the snow, Cologne hadn't been kidding when she said she wouldn't go easy on him. The first thing she had done was make him spar with her, a rather jarring experience. She had beaten him in a minute flat, but seemed oddly impressed that he had 'lasted' that long. He had flushed and stuttered that he was just rusty and the old ghoul had cackled and told him to try again. What followed was weeks of physical torture in which Cologne was determined to 'beat out' all the rustiness. He woke up early everyday and followed a routine of endurance training, forms and studying.

He was enrolled into a village school with Shampoo and Moose. He had never been to school before and he found he liked it. He liked it a lot.

His whole life had been about the art and dedicating himself to the art, but school opened up a different kind of world to him. He now had a small group of friends, besides Moose. They were all male of course, but he had learned quickly that the genders were generally divided.

His Chinese had improved a great deal, though he still spoke Japanese exclusively when he was around people who could understand him, Moose, Cologne and sometimes his foster parents. He was Japanese after all and he felt somehow that speaking the language was like holding on to that part of himself. He also spoke it when he visited his father's grave, a weekly ritual now.

Ploughing his way through the snow, his teeth chattering despite the layers he wore, he cast an irritable glance at Cologne who was bouncing beside him on her cane. The Elder had a maniac smile on her face and he knew she was planning something unpleasant. Why else would she make him drag a huge boulder all the way into the depths of a snow-covered forest? After nine months of knowing the woman, he was always more than a little wary of what she had planned.

 _Nine months_ , he thought wistfully, had it really been that long already? His birthday had come and gone and the now nine-year-old was thinking that life flashed by far too quickly. He also wished that whatever Cologne had planned would _end_ quickly, but somehow he knew he was likely to be nursing bruises for days.

The boulder was getting heavy now too.

"Old ghoul," he panted, "How much farther are we going anyway?"

Like always, he was dealt with a rather painful conk to the head and a habitual scolding.

"It's Master or Great grandmother to you, sonny," she said irritably, though she wasn't quite successful from keeping the humour from her voice, "I take one or the other, not neither."

Ranma grumbled under his breath. He didn't like the idea of calling her master, but calling her Great Grandmother seemed worse. She was his foster great grandparent, true, but he wasn't comfortable with calling her that. He didn't like calling Mei and Lou Fe 'mom' and 'dad' either. Partly because to do so felt strange, but mostly because of the looks Shampoo shot him whenever they suggested it. He supposed he could understand. Her family wanted to adopt him, even though they technically couldn't at the moment and they wanted to make him, _an outsider_ , a part of their family.

His relationship with his foster sister was bad enough without adding salt to the wound like that. Despite his best efforts to be nice to her, _and they were efforts_ , she hated him.

"Master," he relented, "How much further are we going?"

She cast him a slightly disappointed look, which made Ranma feel guilty. The old woman had been a strict teacher, true, but she had also been the only one to stick up for him and it was her family that had opened themselves up to him. He liked her, more than he thought he would, he liked Mei too and Lou Fe. He thought he might be able to like Shampoo, if she ever stopped hating him so much.

"Not much farther," she said, if she was hurt her voice didn't show it, "You're ready to learn an more advanced technique today. This one will make you much stronger, but learning it is a rather harsh experience. You'll probably be in bed for a week after you master it."

Ranma felt his stomach drop a little, not from fear, he was used to pain, but from disappointment of his own. He had really wanted to hang out with Mousse. The boy would be leaving in a few weeks for his apprenticeship in a village nearly three days journey away and Ranma was trying to spend as much time as he could with his semi-blind friend. The boy was annoyingly obsessed with Shampoo, but he was a good kid and one of the only people Ranma could spar with. The rest of the boys his age were all learning different trades, none of them studied martial arts. He wouldn't fight girls, not even if he needed the practice. It was one thing his Pops had instilled in him and Ranma found it was a lesson he could not easily forget. He allowed for Cologne because she was so much older and his teacher, but any other females he refused.

Another reason Shampoo didn't like him.

She thought he was weak because he wouldn't fight her or any other girl, but Ranma had his beliefs and he stuck to them.

"We're here," Cologne said solemnly, "You can put the boulder down over there and I will show you what you are going to learn today."

 **~R1/2~**

True to her word, Ranma was bedridden for a week. His skin was covered in bruises, bright splotches of black, blue, and yellow, which stung when he touched them and covered almost the entirety of his young body. Three of his ribs were broken and his wrist had been sprained, his one finger entirely shattered. He was surprised he didn't have hyperthermia, the amount of time he had spent in the snow being swung repeatedly into a solid mass of rock.

The Breaking Point technique, its main use was shattering rocks, but the side benefits were what Cologne was after. It toughened the body up, made it a lot more durable. She had commented that whatever training his father had started with him had slowly been building durability to injury, but it wasn't enough. He needed to start conditioning his body to survive _any_ training. And that was when Ranma knew.

Cologne was getting ready to send him somewhere for his first apprenticeship.

And she wanted him to succeed quickly.

Boys trained under masters for years, honing their bodies and perfecting their skills; Ranma only had time to perfect the skills part.

He was a quick learner though, he knew that and so did she.

He sure hoped this training was worth the pain though, cause right now he would have gladly swapped for the slower way of doing it.

"Ranma? How are you feeling?"

Ranma's face broke into a warm smile when his foster mother entered the room with a bowl of hot stew and another hot water bottle. Kami knew he needed the heat, he was beginning to think he would never be warm again.

"Thanks Mei," he croaked, his throat a little raspy from exposure to so much cold air.

Mei smiled at him fondly, stroking his hair a little as she sat down beside him. She helped him sit up before placing a pillow on his lap and then putting the tray of food on the pillow.

"You sure you don't need any help?" she asked worriedly as Ranma used his good hand to maneuver the spoon into his mouth.

"Nah, I'm good," he shot her a triumphant grin when he shoveled food in, "Tastes great!"

"Grandmother really put you through your paces this time," she commented with a tired sigh, "Are you in much pain?"

"Just stiff," Ranma said between bites, "Give me a couple days to sleep it off and I'll be right back to training!"

"A couple of days?" Mei shook her head, "One week. That's the minimum you're getting."

"But Mei-" Ranma began with a whine.

"No buts," she grinned at him playfully, "No son of mine is leaving without being in tip top shape."

Ranma immediately stopped shoveling food into his mouth, stopped everything; his eyes widened and he stared at Mei. It was the first time she had referred to him as her son. There had been times when she had asked if he wanted to call her 'mom' but he had just thought she was trying to make him feel like one of the family, for her to actually call him-

His eyes stung a little and he suddenly felt like his heart was being squeezed, but in a good kind of way. Mei's grin became a gentle smile, as she seemed to realize what she had said to make him react in such a way. She stroked her hand through his dark hair again; it was loose and hanging over his shoulders. He'd lost the tie for it as some point during his training and hadn't bothered to replace it yet.

"In three months it will have been a year since you came to us," Mei said softly, still stroking his hair, "I don't know if you've realised this yet, but Lou Fe and I came to love you a long time ago and we consider you family even if you're not related by blood. I love you as my own child and that's not going to change, no matter what happens. You will always have a home here."

Home, that was a foreign concept to Ranma's mind; for as long as he could remember it had just been him, Pops, and their nomadic lifestyle. They had never stayed long enough in one place to call it home. In fact, his stay so far with the Amazons had been the longest time he had ever remained anywhere. He hadn't really thought of the village as his home yet, it was more just the place he was at the moment. He supposed somewhere in the back of his mind he had just assumed he would have to move on eventually. The knowledge that Cologne was going to be sending him to different masters all over China had added to this belief. But now that he thought about it, he was always going to be able to come back, to one place, to home.

As for the love part, he wasn't sure what to say abut that. He couldn't remember his father ever telling him he loved him, but he must of, he was his father after all. When he was really little, he thought he might have made the gesture, but the memory was fuzzy.

He swallowed hard.

"Thanks Mei," he said softly, not looking at her.

He heard her sigh tiredly and for a moment thought he'd done it again, said the wrong thing. But then he felt her warm arms around him, so soft she didn't hurt him at all.

"You'll do well, Ranma," she said with a little laugh, kissing his forehead, "Very well."

A little confused, Ranma just sank into the warmth of her arms, content to just be around the woman. He wondered, and not for the first time, if this was what having a mother was like-

A crashing sound disturbed the moment. Mei drew away in surprise and gave an exasperated sigh, rising to see what the commotion was about. Ranma knew though and he sunk into the covers tiredly.

Shampoo must have been really angry this time.

 **~R1/2~**

"So what's this master of yours going to be teaching ya anyway?" Ranma asked Mousse three days later. After much begging and pleading, Mei had allowed him out of bed on strict instructions not to exert himself until she said so.

In other words, _no training_.

Ranma had protested, but eventually agreed, anything to get out of bed. He even endured Mei binding him up in thick woolens and furs, plastering him with healing lotions and ordering him to return in an hour for another dose of medicine.

He cringed at that last part; Amazons had a gift for making a million and one strange concoctions. Some were made to help, others were made to aid in battle or subdue an enemy. He hadn't been subjected to the latter yet, but Cologne had mentioned, with a glint in her eye, that eventually they'd have to build his immunity to certain poisons.

Needless to say, Ranma was not looking forward to that brand of training.

"He's a Master of Hidden Weapons," Mousse looked proud and excited, "He said I have real potential, despite my eyesight."

Mousse's semi-blindness had always been a soft spot for the boy, to the point where he denied there was a problem at all. Ranma admired him for it. Overcoming a disability and still aiming to become the best you could be, it gave Ranma hope. He figured if Mousse could live with having bad eyes, then he could live with turning into a cat. A lot of people in the village didn't think Mousse would become a strong martial artist, but Ranma thought that if he really dedicated himself to it, he might just make it. Though he couldn't say he was a fan of _all_ Mousse's future goals.

"Just you watch Ranma," the blind boy said with a triumphant grin, "I'll come back a master, then I'll challenge my darling Shampoo to a match, a _real_ match and finally win the honour of her hand in marriage. Then we'll live happily ever after with our eternal love to-"

Ranma stopped listening after 'darling Shampoo,' like there was anything darling about her. She was as prickly as a cactus and meaner than a viper. He'd heard all about Mousse's first time challenging Shampoo to a fight when they were little kids. Apparently, to the Amazons at least, that counted. He found the laws here awfully funny. Boys who were part of the tribe already could only marry someone in the tribe if they first proved themselves as warriors. This meant that they had to leave the tribe anyway because there was no one here to teach them. There were women who married 'weaker' males by choice, but they generally weren't as highly thought of as the outsiders who joined the tribe.

There weren't many of those either; it seemed it took a certain kind of man to beat an Amazon in combat. Lou Fe was just one of a respected and elite class of male warriors who were allowed to teach the women of the tribe. Most of them, though not all, had joined the tribe willingly.

Mousse's father had been born an Amazon, like Mousse, and his trade was crafting weapons. Though this wasn't seen as on par with being a warrior, it was a vital skill and earned the man much respect. The semi-blind boy was proud of his father, Feng.

Unable to win a match against the woman he loved, Feng had made a bet with her instead. He had bet that he could make her a weapon that would never shatter. Apparently, back then, Mousse's mother had been well known for destroying her tools before she had a chance to use them. She had agreed to marry him if he won.

And he did.

Bargains were a big part of Amazon culture and no one ever went back on one. That was the law.

While he was spacing out from Mousse's rant about Shampoo, Ranma noticed something strange. Someone was coming into the village, loaded with packs and guiding a cart behind him. That wasn't the funny thing though as many men left to trade with outside villages, what was funny was the tiny Amazon girl who launched herself at him, hugging him with all her might. The young man grinned widely, setting her down and kissing her on the forehead. The smaller girl then gave a small bow while place a hand over her heart. The man gave another big smile, ruffling her hair affectionately.

"He doesn't look old enough for that to be his kid," Ranma commented offhandedly, finally gaining Mousse's attention.

"What? Oh no, they're siblings," Mousse said, studying them for a moment, "Yeah, definitely siblings."

"Do you know them?" Ranma asked curiously.

"Well, no, not really, it's just what younger siblings do to older in the tribe," Mousse explained, "The way she bowed, it's a sign of respect and loyalty. You're a little older than Shampoo, so she'll probably be doing something similar. Its customary."

"Yeah right!" said Ranma, pulling a face, "No way Shampoo will ever do that. She hates me!"

"I'm sure she doesn't hate you-"

"Hey, I know enough Chinese to know all the times she's called me an idiot."

"She's just a little high strung," Mousse defended, "I promise you, her heart is pure and good. She's the most beautiful creature ever to be born to the Amazons. She-"

"Mousse!" Ranma moaned, "You're doing it again!"

"Doing what?"

"That-that mushy stuff that I'm pretty sure kids our age aint supposed to be talking about," Ranma looked disgusted, "Yuck!"

"Oh, just wait till you fall in love," Mousse said, crossing his arms and grinning, "Then you'll know what its like."

" _Puh-leeze_ ," Ranma shook his head, "I aint never gonna fall in love, not if it does that to you."

"You used a double negative!" Mousse pointed out with glee.

"Huh?"

"' _Aint never_ ,'" Mousse said, "That's a double negative! My dad told me, he said it means that it cancels out both negatives for a positive! That means you said you will fall in love someday!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

Ranma scowled at his friend. In the months since Cologne had explained just exactly what his father had done to him, Shampoo had been acting worse and worse. His Chinese was still less than perfect, but he sure as hell knew what a meowing sound was and how often the little Amazon girl made it was starting to infuriate him. It was bad enough he couldn't control his fear when it came to facing a c-c-one of those things; she didn't have to rub it in.

He looked at the brother and sister again; there was no way in hell Shampoo was ever going to do that to him. He wasn't so sure he'd ever want her to either, the annoying brat.

" _Hey! It's scaredy-cat boy!"_

He resisted a groan, knowing who it was without turning his head or listening to Moose's sudden exclamation of devotion.

Speak of the devil.

 **~R1/2~**

Lou Fe was a quiet man.

He had always been so, his reservation seeming odd to many, but it was just the way he was. He liked to listen to others speak and gave his opinions sparingly. In his younger years, his quiet manner had led many an opponent to underestimate him or think him slow. The very opposite was true.

Lou Fe was one of the fastest warriors in the village.

When he had a blade in his hand.

He sat outside his home now, not bothered by the cold as he calmly sharpened one of his favourite weapons. A pair of short, single edged blades called butterfly swords. Each blade was as long as his forearm. They were the most versatile set of weapons he owned, excellent in both defensive and offensive fighting. More importantly, they complemented his primary martial arts form, Wing Chun. With them in his hands, he was a deadly force.

Lou Fe had several jobs in the village, the most primary of which was guarding the borders and teaching the younglings. He also had some talent for sword design and often worked with the local weapons smith, Feng. Sometimes he took hiring jobs outside. Guarding travelers, merchants and the like. The Amazons generally tried to fill in as they went, with everyone helping out where they could. If the harvest needed more hands, you could be assured that the warriors would exchange their weapons for scythes and ploughs.

As his whetstone slid over the metal, his thoughts drifted to his foster son. He had been a little hesitant at first, but the look in Mei's eyes when she said she wanted him to be part of their family erased all doubts. There was very little he wouldn't do for Mei.

And gods, when she smiled at him, he'd agree to anything she said.

Ranma had turned out to be a descent lad, if a little rough around the edges. He was clearly more boisterous than Lou Fe had ever been, but he had a genuine love for martial arts that the older man could appreciate. He remembered spending an entire afternoon showing Ranma his weapons collection, explaining the histories behind each blade. The boy had listened, fascinated by each tale and asked practical questions. Which martial arts forms complimented which swords, how did one care for them and so on. Shampoo had never been so interested.

Ah, and there was another concern. Shampoo.

She didn't seem to be adjusting well to the presence of a brother.

His daughter was headstrong and more than a little spoilt. She was their only child and most of her cousins were far older than her. He had no doubt it was the divide in her parents' attention that irked her more than Ranma being a 'boy.' Though that certainly didn't help.

He resisted a sigh. It was a shame, the Amazons did not specifically disdain from males learning martial arts, though they focused more attention on the women. Indeed, they _wanted_ strong men and encouraged the boys with the most potential to seek training outside the village with the goal of bringing more knowledge into the tribe. It was a system that had been in place for centuries to ensure the Amazons remained strong.

He would have to monitor more closely who Shampoo spent time with. There were some women who did indeed think men belonged at the very bottom of society.

"Lou Fe?"

He looked up at the sound of his name and saw Ranma standing there, watching him. Still covered in bruises and layers of clothing, he looked rather adorable all trussed up. Lou Fe smiled warmly at the boy and was rewarded with a returning grin.

"Back for your medicine, I see," he said with a chuckle.

Ranma flushed a little and nodded, still peering at the blades with interest. It wasn't the first time Lou Fe had caught the boy staring at his weapons, but not saying anything.

"Perhaps we should get you started on weapons work soon," he said casually, "Once you've healed up a bit. You still want to learn?"

Ranma nodded eagerly, his expression brightening and Lou Fe was reminded of one of the many reasons he had grown so fond of the boy. The pure love of learning something new about the art, the appreciation and excitement. It reminded him of himself as a child, about Ranma's age. The boy had already admitted to having some knowledge of kendo, but not too much else. He preferred unarmed combat. As far as Lou Fe was concerned, knowing how to use a weapon was a good skill to have.

"Go see Mei," he said, setting down the butterfly sword next to its partner, "I'm going to a meeting soon, you can come with me."

Ranma's eyes widened.

The 'meetings' Lou Fe attended were with other outsider males who had won the right to marry into the tribe and the Amazon men who had chosen the path of the martial artist. They discussed things like guard and training schedules, practiced with one another and generally got together for a good talk. Because they had all proven themselves as formidable warriors to the tribe, they had certain responsibilities many of the Amazon born men did not.

The Amazons might value their women, but they valued strength more.

The meetings were for more than just getting together though as some members of the group formed the representation for men on the village council. This was often the only political voice the men had in the village and was taken very seriously by the Elders.

"You sure?" Ranma asked, hesitantly.

Lou Fe grinned, knowing he had wanted to come along since he'd first heard about them.

"We 'outsider males' have to stick together, don't we?"

Ranma's grin couldn't have gotten any bigger if he tried and he was already falling over himself to get into the house. Lou Fe let out an amused chuckle.

It was time Ranma be properly introduced anyway.

 **~R1/2~**

Shampoo was furious.

After a run in with the interloper, she had been humiliated.

She had approached him and the stupid Mousse, a group of her friends surrounding her. She had riled most of them into sharing her hate of the outsider boy who had intruded on their lives.

" _Look! Its scaredy-cat boy!" she sneered, earning some approving laughter from the girls around her. Shampoo was considered the best fighter in her age group and was popular amongst the girls and boys both. Even stupid Mousse trailed after her like a little, lost duckling._

 _She was loathe to admit that he had been doing so less since the outsider's arrival._

 _Ranma shot her an exasperated look and turned back to Mousse._

 _He said something to the other boy in Japanese. Mousse blushed a little, looking between Ranma and Shampoo. He nodded and the two started to walk away. Shampoo huffed, hating that she couldn't understand what was being said, but too proud to admit it. She followed them, yelling out more taunts, but was ignored._

 _Anger took her again and she tried to strike out at him._

 _The boy caught her arm, sending her spinning in the other direction. She lost her footing and landed in the snow. The girls who had been following and jeering along with her went quiet._

" _Fight me!" she snarled, jumping up, "Fight me!"_

 _But Ranma just looked at her and shook his head._

" _I don't fight girls," he declared and turned to Mousse, "I'm going home Mousse. Mei wanted to dose me again."_

 _He disappeared quickly, not noticing the wince on his friend's face or the glares of pure hate being shot at him from the assembled girls. Shampoo was staring after him, too stunned to move. He had refused to fight her before, but to say_ _ **that**_ _. She felt like she had been slapped in the face. She let out a growl, letting anger course through her to beat away the shame flushing her cheeks._

 _She hated him!_

Shampoo had detangled herself from her friends quickly after that and fled, unable to prevent the hot flood of angry tears that were scarring her cheeks. Every since he had arrived things had been different. Her great-grandmother was almost exclusively training him, Mousse wasn't hanging around her as much as usual and her parents were practically fawning over him.

 _Look at Ranma_ , she thought bitterly, _look at how fast he can learn. Look at how much he knows. Aren't you proud of your brother?_

She bit down an angry growl.

 _She_ was the best in her generation; they all had said it, that _she'd_ be the village champion someday.

Now it was _Ranma, Ranma, Ranma_.

Her only consolation was that she wasn't the only one who felt the boy was an intruder. She knew from eavesdropping that at least two of the elders resented his _acquired_ position in the tribe. She ignored for the moment that both were also staunch rivals of her great-grandmother's. One thing was certain though; he was not considered a _true_ Joketsuzoko. Not yet. And maybe he never would be.

With this thought in mind, she wiped the tears from her face and sniffed loudly.

" _Shan Pu, what are doing here?_ " she snapped round at her great-grandmother's voice, " _Whatever is the matter?_ "

With her wizened face pinched up in concern, Shampoo let out her feelings immediately, eager for her great-grandmother's comfort.

" _Oh child_ ," the old woman sighed, " _You know it's not like that_."

" _Then what is it like?_ " she snapped, forgetting herself, " _Why are you training him?_ "

Cologne's expression became thoughtful and she chuckled, not the reaction Shampoo was expecting.

" _Sometimes I'm not sure_ ," she admitted, seeming far away for a moment, " _He has potential. Lots of potential_. _And I find him quite amusing, don't you?_ "

Shampoo's heart sank and she bit back more tears.

Cologne sighed and gently knocked her cane to Shampoo's head.

" _None of that_ ," she said lightly, " _Shan Pu, that boy has nothing. No one in the world. And he loves the art as much as you do_."

" _He's a boy! An outsider boy!_ "

" _So is your father_ ," Cologne said sternly, " _I have not coddled you, girl. Nor are you a fool."_

" _He has no respect for us great-grandmother!"_ she said defensively, " _He blatantly said he wouldn't fight a girl!_ "

Cologne looked weary.

" _Yes, and I have told him that would cause him problems here_ ," she said gently, " _You must understand that he was raised very differently. He's brash and perhaps a little too arrogant for his own good, but he can be kind too. Perhaps if you wish for him to show respect, you should extend a little yourself. Shan Pu, I know you. You have been making things difficult for him since he arrived. He is not here to replace you, nor does he wish to. I think if you give him a chance, you might surprise yourself_."

Shampoo crossed her arms over her chest, not responding. Cologne shook her head sadly and pogoed away.

The little Amazon girl fumed for a while, thinking over her great-grandmother's words and not liking them one bit. Show him respect? _For what_? What had _he_ ever done that was worthy of her respect? She recalled uncomfortably the nightmares that had plagued Ranma in his first few weeks with them.

She pushed those thoughts away and focused on her anger, determined to put Ranma in his place. If she could just force a confrontation, surely he would have to fight her. And then she would show him, she would show everyone, how pitiful the outsider was.

She marched home, but didn't find him there. Her father was home, having just returned from a meeting and informed her that Ranma had gone to visit his father's grave. Shampoo was out the door, heading towards the gravesite without another word.

 **~R1/2~**

Ranma enjoyed the meeting with the other male warriors. They were all so different and many were eager to meet the young man who had cause such a 'ruckus' in the tribe. He was especially pleased when some offered to let him come watch them train. This was a world Ranma was more familiar with.

He was the youngest person present, one of the reasons he had never been allowed to attend before, but the men were generally welcoming. He had met some of them before, but not all. They were a small group when compared to the number of female martial artists amongst the Amazons, but there were a lot more than Ranma would have though.

As the afternoon became late, however, he remembered there was something else he had needed to do that day. Luckily, the meeting was winding down and with a few promises bandied around to meet again, he was finally released.

Ranma bid his farewells to the men and hurried on to his destination, feeling a fool for forgetting. He hadn't visited his father's grave for several week now and had promised himself to do so. He took the familiar path leading to just outside the village, passing through a thicket of forest area. He finally came out to a clearing. There were several graves there; his father hadn't been the first outsider to perish on Amazon soil after all. He ignored the others and walked up to the newest gravestone. The only words it bore were his father's name.

He brushed the snow off it and reached into his coat, extracting one of the pork dumplings Mei had made. He'd never had anyone's grave to visit before, but he thought bringing small gifts every now and then was a good way to go. He placed it in the snow.

"Cause you're always hungry," he told the stone, "Mei's dumplings are really good."

He scratched the top of his head, trying to think of what else to say. In the beginning of these visits, he had berated his father for taking ill so easily, for leaving him alone and for cursing him with an unstable technique. The anger had eventually died into fruitless questions. Why? Where was his mother? Didn't Genma have a plan for him? And these had led to a sense of deep loss. Genma could be a selfish old fool, but Ranma still missed him.

Ranma was all spent now. He'd said everything he wanted to say to his Pops, but he didn't want it to be finished.

"You listen to me way more now than you ever did, ya know?" he told the grave ruefully, "I think I'm gonna be sent off for training or somethin' soon. So ya don't have to worry about me goin' soft."

He laughed.

"Lou Fe says he'll give me some swordsmanship training too. I know you hated swords. Never could figure out why though," and it was true, the one time Ranma had picked up a sword to try its weight, Genma had blanched and taken it out of his hands. (Ranma, of course, had no way of knowing that he'd reminded his father very vividly of his mother and the family sword. And what she'd do to him with it if he didn't return with a very manly son in tow.)

He lapsed into silence, trying to think of something more to say, when he heard the crunching of snow behind him. Turning in surprise, his gaze met those of a tall figure, draped in a thick, long red coat. He was a young man, from what Ranma could see, maybe even a teenager still. With dark hair and eyes, he looked very ordinary, the kind of face that could get lost in a crowd.

Ranma tried to relax a little.

He was wary of the sword at the older boy's hip though.

Sheathed, Ranma couldn't see anything special about it, but a chill ran down his spine. It almost felt like someone had their battle aura out, but he couldn't sense anything coming off the boy and surely it couldn't be coming from a sword-?

" _Good day_ ," the older boy spoke, his tone clipped and polite.

All the time, his dark eyes remained on Ranma.

"Hello," Ranma momentarily forgot to speak Chinese. The stranger's eyes widened and a smile stretched his lips.

"Japanese?" he asked lightly.

Ranma just nodded.

The stranger looked to the graves and stepped forward, his gaze on one of the older stones. Ranma followed it, but couldn't make out the name on the grave; it was too worn with age.

"I'm visiting an ancestor's resting place," the stranger said casually, his Japanese heavily accented, "I didn't expect anyone else to venture so far into Amazon territory."

"I live in the village with my foster family," Ranma found himself saying, most of his attention trying to find the source of the battle aura, "This is my Pop's grave."

The stretched smile widened a little, almost as if the stranger was trying to appear sympathetic. Ranma's gaze fell to the sword again. He shivered, feeling the threat in the air.

 _Surely it can't be coming from there? But where else-?_

"It's a family heirloom."

Ranma gave a start as he realized the stranger had noticed him staring.

"Oh?" Ranma tried to stay casual, but the feeling of wariness was there, he didn't like this guy or his sword, "That's cool."

"Hmm yes," the stranger looked down at the weapon and rested his hand on the hilt. His dark eyes widened fractionally and he snapped his head back up, "I'm always interested in these things, so you'll forgive my forwardness. Does your family have any such heirlooms?"

Ranma frowned. What an odd question.

"I don't think so, my Pops never touched a sword," he said in a rush, wanting to escape as quickly as possible. He was still injured from the Breaking Point training and from the degree of threat he felt, Ranma wasn't sure he could take this man on or get away quick enough if he had to. He felt a very real stab of fear at the thought. He hadn't come across this type of situation before, even the people his Pops made angry never filled him with such dread. He made a note to tell Cologne, just incase this guy tried to come into the village.

"I see," was all the stranger said, still staring at him.

Ranma thought this was a good time to make his exit.

"I got to get home," he lied, "I'll get it if I'm not in time for dinner. Ah, hope ya have a good visit with your ancestor."

With that, he turned on his heal and had almost made it to the edge of the clearing when the stranger's voice stopped him.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Ranma Saotome," Ranma blurted out, not really thinking and wanting to get away.

"Saotome," he heard the stranger say, "From Japan."

He didn't stay to hear anymore.

As he ran back through the trees, Ranma didn't turn back to see what the stranger did next.

He drew his blade a little from its sheath, feeling the weapon vibrate softly. Running his thumb along the blade, he allowed it to cut him and fed some of his blood to it, appeasing the hum for a time.

"Saotome," he said again thoughtfully, "Japan."

For now though, he had other matters to attend to. He turned his attention to the faded tombstone and knelt before it, clearing the snow from the ground.

Then he started to dig.

 **~R1/2~**

Ranma moved through the forest quickly, anxious to get back to the village and away from the stranger at the graves. His heart was pounding in his chest and he kept trying to figure out what about the man had caused so much terror. There was just that feeling, like he was a facing an enemy. A very dangerous enemy.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice someone running at him until a body collided with his, pushing him into the snow. He leapt to his feet; sure the stranger had decided to follow him. All he saw was Shampoo.

" _What are you doing?_ " he yelled at her angrily, brushing of snowflakes from his coat.

" _Leave, outsider!_ " Shampoo snarled, " _You don't belong here! Leave now!_ "

Ranma felt like he'd been slapped and glared at her, his temper rising. He'd had enough of Shampoo.

" _No!_ " he shouted back at her, " _I'm not going anywhere!_ "

She gave a great cry of rage and attacked.

" _Stupid! Stupid! Stupid boy_!" the Chinese girl yelled at him, flinging snow, rocks, branches and anything she could get her hands on, " _Everything was perfect before you came! You ruined everything!_ "

Ranma lifted his arms, trying to deflect the missiles from his face. He tried to focus on the angry purple haired girl, but she just kept throwing things at him. Slowly, he started to edge closer to her, not sure about what he would do, but sure that he needed to be close to do it.

The next thing he knew he was hit full force, knocked right back into the cold, wet snow. He felt the punch to his face, saw the flurry of purple hair and white snow flakes. It hurt a little on his bruised, cold flesh, but after the Breaking Point training it was barely more than a pinch. He could feel her trying to claw at him and raised his arms to protect his eyes. Then she was punching him in the stomach, the chest, and the arms; anywhere she could reach.

She was strong; he'd admit that much. Never to anyone out loud of course, but to himself he admitted it. He could hear her shouting, yelling insults at him in Chinese. Most of them he had never heard before. He didn't fight back, every fibre of his being fighting to, but he held himself. He knew fighting her wasn't going to do any good.

 _I don't fight girls_ , he kept repeating to himself in his head, even when he felt his nose break, _Pops says it ain't right to fight girls_.

Eventually, to Ranma it seemed like hours, her strikes lost their fervor and her angry shouts faded into sobbing. Her weight stayed on him, but she stopped hitting him. He hazarded a look up, slowly removing his arms. She wasn't looking at him, but her head was bowed and he was granted a full look at her face. Her hair was wet from the snow, strands clinging around her skin whilst the rest fluttered wildly in the wind. Her nose was red from the cold and her eyes red from crying. She was taking great, shuddering breaths as she tried to control herself.

Impatiently, he tried to get up and shift her off him. He was getting tired of being treated like a punching bag. When he moved, she shot him a glare.

" _I hate you_ ," she hissed, " _I hate you outsider! You take away everything_!"

Ranma froze, confusion clouding his mind. What was she talking about? How had he taken away everything from her? She was the one with the loving parents, the doting great-grandmother and the village that loved her. She was the one who had everything. She was right about one thing though, he was an outsider and he always would be one. Mei was nice to him, had said she loved him, but she had just said that because she was _nice_.

" _You're an idiot_ ," he whispered, catching her by surprise.

Shampoo looked taken aback and got off him in her surprise. Then her face got angry again.

" _Who are you calling an idiot? You stupid boy!"_ she yelled at him.

Ranma got to his feet, angry now as well. He had been doing all the right things the past nine months, trying in vain to get this annoying girl to accept him, to like him even just a little, but obviously she didn't want that. He had even let her beat on him without retaliating once.

" _You have a family_ ," he shouted right back at her, " _They'll do anything for you and they'll never let you get hurt. How could you ever think anyone could ever take that away from you? You're the one who's stupid!_ "

Her fist went back in preparation for a punch; Ranma's arm was ready to fly up and block her. Just because he wouldn't fight girls didn't mean he had to endure being this annoying girl's punching bag. It never came though.

There was a loud squeal from somewhere in the snowy brushes and a boar, larger than anything Ranma had ever seen, came charging out towards them. On instinct, Ranma pushed Shampoo out of the way and turned to face the charging creature. With a well-aimed jump, he leapt over the beast and kicked it hard in the snout. The animal charged blindly into a tree, crashing hard. In a daze, the boar rose, shook its head and turned hate filled eyes on Ranma. The boy didn't think, only reacted. He leapt to the side, grabbing Shampoo by the shoulders and hoisting her up. He leapt up from the ground, dragging her with him as the boar made to charge again. He managed to grab a tree branch and swung her up to sit on the outreaching piece of wood. She stared at him wide eyed when he immediately turned from her and jumped on top of the boar.

He landed on its back.

With a grunt, the beast tried to dislodge him, flaying wildly. Ranma aimed another serious of kicks to its head, leaping off its back again and swinging in for a final blow. This time the boar stayed down when it hit the tree. It struggled for a brief moment before slipping into unconsciousness.

Panting, Ranma staggered a little in the snow. He probably shouldn't have done that. He had strained his already injured wrist and used stiff muscles that weren't ready to be worked yet. He briefly heard Shampoo land in the snow next to him and flinched. He didn't think he was ready for another show down with her just yet. Taking a deep breath, he turned, knowing the beating was going to continue.

It didn't.

Shampoo was staring at him with an expression of pure wonder on her face. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks still stained with tears and her nose as red as ever.

" _Why did you do that_?" she asked hesitantly, " _Why did you save me_?"

Ranma didn't think he had saved her. He'd seen her fight before and knew she could probably have held her own against the boar. But something in him hadn't wanted to see her get hurt and it was that that had made him react without thinking. He licked his lips and shrugged.

" _Cause your family let me in_ ," he said truthfully, " _And I never want to see any of you hurt_."

He was really waiting for it now. She was going to lay into him again. Scream her insults, insist that she didn't need an outsider's help.

Shampoo looked up at Ranma teary eyed and then did something that nearly made the Japanese boy yell in absolute shock.

She gave a small bow, her hand held over her heart.

Ranma's eyes went as wide as saucers.

 _It's a sign of respect and loyalty._

Mousse's words echoed in his head and all he could do was gape as Shampoo looked up at him for a moment, her deep purple eyes looking sincerely into his own.

"Thank you," she said in hesitant Japanese, "Brother."

He didn't know what to say, Shampoo's face flushed a little and she quickly turned and fled from him, leaving the nine year old to ponder this new development.

He had a sister.

But with everything that happened with Shampoo in the forest and later trying to talk to her about it at home, Ranma completely forgot about his encounter with the stranger. By the time he did remember, nothing bad had happened and he'd heard nothing about the guards seeing any stranger lurking around the village. So he disregarded it, not seeing a point in mentioning the exchange if there was no threat. China had lots of strange people in it, after all.

What he did remember though, was the fear. The bone chilling knowledge that he was no match for the man before him.

Ranma decided he never wanted to feel like that again.


	4. Its About Respect

**It's About Respect**

Genma Saotome had been an unreliable man, to say the least. But there was one thing he had done. Every month during their training trip, he had sent a postcard to his wife.

Not one had been a sonnet, usually just the words 'we're fine' or 'Ranma's doing well' were written there, but he always signed them 'Genma and Ranma.' For years, if nothing else, Nodoka relied on those postcards arriving. Perhaps Genma had felt some sentimentality, some pity for the mother of his child. Perhaps he hoped it would garner some sympathy from her if he ever came to need it in the future. Whatever the reason, he still sent them.

Until nine months ago.

Nodoka hadn't worried too much at first. The last postcard she had received had been from China. Although surprised her husband and son had traveled so far, she hadn't thought too much about it. This was the life of a martial artist, after all. After a second month passed with no postcard in sight, she assumed it was because they were traveling and unable to send the precious note. But after four months of nothing, Nodoka was concerned.

Another month passed with still no word and Nodoka decided it was time to take action. She made an application to the Chinese authorities, explaining her concern. The clerk at the embassy had taken down her statement and assured her that a missing persons report would be filed. Nodoka had bowed her thanks and intended to return home to wait for news.

Except she couldn't.

She found waiting at home ten times worse than it had before. Perhaps the postcards had been doing their work to placate her, but now in their absence, her imaginations ran wild. China was dangerous and her son was so young. She found herself reading the Seppuku contract over and over again, her eyes tracing her son's very small handprints.

It was the promise that guaranteed her son would be returned to her. The only thing she had to tie Genma to his word. It was the right thing. It was about honour as a martial artist. Her husband and son would never respect her if she didn't keep them to their word, if she didn't fulfill her duty. But the thought of having to…

She shook herself, trembling without feeling cold.

As another month passed and she heard no word from the Chinese embassy or from Genma, Nodoka began to regret ever letting him take her son from her arms. As time went on and Ranma's ninth birthday came and went, the regret intensified. What if something had happened before her son could even grow into manhood? If nothing else, Genma surely would have written for her son's birthday.

And finally, as nine months came to their close, Nodoka found she couldn't stand waiting anymore. So she took to wandering.

She traveled around for some time, hoping that just maybe Genma and Ranma had returned to Japan and were simply waylaid with training. If she could just run into them…

At first, she hadn't even thought about the sword.

When Genma and Ranma had made the contract, she remembered eyeing that blade for weeks. Horrible images plagued her mind, visions of having to slay her own family if Genma didn't prove true to his word. Eventually, she had stopped looking at it, locking it away where she didn't have to. Because Genma would keep his word. About this, of all things, he _had_ to keep his word.

Renewed thoughts, about the contract, about the lack of contact and her own loneliness brought more bad dreams. It didn't take long for her to realize that she would rather have a weakling son back in her arms, than deal with this sense of not knowing his fate.

She unpacked the sword, as her mind worked, not even sure what she would do with it. _Would she hold Genma and Ranma to the Seppuku contract? Could she bear to kill her own son?_

She had been raised with a strong sense of honour and had thought herself the most adept to be the wife of a martial artist. Her own father had been a skilled swordsman. She remembered watching him move through the dojo with his blade – _this blade_ – like he was chasing the wind. He was the one who had taught her the value of a martial artist's word and the heavy burdens of duty and honour that came with them.

She called it the 'Family Sword,' but it was really _her_ family sword. It was the only piece of her past she had prevented Genma from hawking or selling. What she knew about wielding the blade had kept her errant husband in check many times, but she feared that as the years progressed, her memory and skills diminished. Perhaps it was time to start practicing again.

As she drew it from its sheath, for the first time in years she didn't see her son's blood on the blade. She closed her eyes and instead remembered the history of the sword, the story that had filtered down through the generations of her family. She remembered and she envisioned a different fate for the blade. Memory stirred and the very metal seemed to hum with approval beneath her fingertips. It would be Ranma's someday. She would see this sword in the hands of her son, moving with it like he was chasing the wind.

She liked this dream. She treasured it like nothing else and kept the sword close to her. She needed it close, not to remind her of the contract, but to keep the dream alive. She would find her son and give him his birthright.

This sword belonged to Ranma Saotome.

And if the approving hum seemed to intensify at the thought, Nodoka chalked it up to her own imagination.

So she carried the blade with her and hoped.

It was on her way back to her home some weeks later, feeling despondent and tired, that she met Akane Tendo.

 **~R1/2~**

There was a celebration in the village that day.

Three of their members had been accepted into Hong Kong University for study and would be leaving them for a time. Ranma watched as the three – a boy with scruffy hair and two girls, one a head shorter than the other – were offered congratulations and best wishes. As a small village, situated far from most of the major cities in China, it wasn't often that one of their own left for studies there. To have three was seen as something of an event.

Ranma helped Mei unpack prepared food from containers and hand it out to the crowd. Steamed dumplings, hot buns, fresh noodles…it was a feast if he had ever seen one. He spent a long time afterward munching down as much food as his stomach could hold. Shampoo found him and he was dragged off into playing games with the other children.

She had been a lot nicer to him since the whole incident with the boar and had taken to calling him 'brother.' Ranma found the whole experience odd, but was glad things had changed. Shampoo turned out to be pretty interesting for a girl.

The other Amazon girls didn't seem to be warming up to him though. Ranma was surprised when Shampoo purposefully walked away from a group of her friends to join him. He had, admittedly, been a little lonely since Mousse's departure a week prior. There had been a small celebration with Mousse's family and friends on that day too, all of them wishing him luck in his training. Amazons seemed to like doing this sort of thing whenever one of their own ventured out for the first time.

He looked up as Shampoo approached, a determined look on her face.

" _Come_ ," she said, tugging his arm, " _Come eat with us_."

Ranma blinked, eyeing the group of cold-eyed girls cautiously. He was about to refuse when he noticed the pleading look in Shampoo's gaze. Sighing, he got to his feet, balancing a bowl of noodles in one hand and let her drag him over to her group of friends. They all watched him warily as he took a seat beside his foster sister. For several moments, silence reigned, then regular chatter resumed as though Ranma wasn't present to begin with.

Eventually, they split off from the adults to play their own games, some of the boys joining them. Ranma was relieved and soon found himself having a good time. One of the girls, who had a dimpled smile, a mane of thick brown hair and was called Liling, gave him a kiss on the cheek at the end of it.

Ranma's face got hot and he darted away from her, furiously scrubbing at his cheek. This seemed to amuse the watching adults to no end.

Perhaps even more perplexing, was the way Shampoo shot Liling a glare and gave Ranma a kiss on his other cheek. As the adults roared with laughter, Ranma wished very hard that the earth would swallow him whole.

Lou Fe was on guard duty this time and so was absent from the party. Ranma would probably go join him at the gates later, as had become a habit now. He found he liked having talks with his foster dad and whoever else was on duty with him that day.

Some of the older children had broken into groups and were having sparing matches with one another. Ranma noticed one small group consisted of mostly boys and decided it might be worth a look. As he moved over to the group, he missed the look Shampoo shot him.

It didn't take long before Ranma found himself facing an older Amazon boy and grinning with delight. He had missed Mousse this past week and relished the thought of sparring with someone around his own age. The sparring was good-natured, almost like a game. They stood in a circle with two opponents facing each other in the middle. The two in the centre would fight and the winner would be named 'king' until the next round, where a challenger would enter the circle and the spar would continue.

Ranma had won 'king' three times when he suddenly found himself face to face with Shampoo.

The purple haired girl had a small grin on her face and looked excited.

Ranma wasn't as sure.

Having seen Shampoo spar before, he knew she was a perfectly capable fighter, but he didn't want to hurt her. Not when she was finally being nice to him.

He dodged her attacks, sweeping to the side, his hands clasped behind his back. He heard laughter from the boys and a disdainful chatter from the girls. Not sure what he was doing wrong, he decided to end the match quickly. He quickly swept her feet out from under her, sending her falling to the ground. By the rules of the game, this meant that he had won.

Ranma was grinning and bent to offer her a hand up, only to have the hand slapped away.

Silence fell over the group.

Shampoo got to her feet. She brushed herself off silently and looked up at him, her lips pursed. What shocked Ranma was that there was a watery sheen in her eyes.

Still not speaking, she turned on her heel and left the circle. Ranma just stood there, feeling as confused as ever. Ignoring the whispers around him, he took off after her.

" _Shan Pu_!" he called, as she darted away from the celebrations, " _Wait up!_ "

But she didn't. She picked up her pace and ran from him, quickly disappearing into the night. Ranma slowed down to a halt and sighed, not sure of what to do.

"What did I do this time?" he wondered aloud and decided to join Lou Fe at the gates.

He expected to find Shampoo at home later, but she was already sleeping by the time he and Lou Fe came in. The older man offered to wake Ranma early the next day, as he was covering another guard's shift at the gates once again. Ranma nodded tiredly, knowing there wouldn't be much else to do. He said goodnight, but paused outside Shampoo's door, wondering if he should try to speak to her.

He decided against it.

There was no point trying to apologize until he could figure out _if_ he had done something wrong.

He replayed the incident in his head that night, over and over. He hadn't hurt her, he hadn't even touched her. So why had she reacted that way?

In the end, he gave a great huff and turned over in bed, feeling irritable. Well if she was going to behave this way, he didn't want to know.

The Amazons were an odd bunch, he decided, and even after nearly a year with them, he still didn't understand everything. He wondered if he ever would.

 **~R1/2~**

Snow had started falling late into the night after the previous day's celebrations. The whole village was covered in white once more. Ranma had risen early and left with Lou Fe, oddly glad not to have run into Shampoo. His perplexity had shifted to irritability and then anger. He wasn't sure if her reaction had been something typically Amazon, or just girlish. He trudged through the cold and tried to forget about the incident.

It was that day that Ranma had his first real taste of Amazon ruthlessness.

Nuan had been village champion three years in a row. Shampoo spoke of her constantly with admiration and just a bit of jealousy. The women was ten years their senior. She had long, reddish hair that ran straight to her waist and was considered one of the tallest women in the tribe. She was also very muscular and had a reputation for her brute strength. The last time Ranma had seen her, she was leaving the village and no one had come out to send her farewell. He had been too busy training with Cologne to think anything of it at the time, although at that point, Shampoo had stopped talking about her too.

That was three months ago.

She had apparently returned.

Ranma was at the gates with Lou Fe when a lone figure approached. It was Nuan, looking grim and carrying nothing but a sack with her. She held it up as she approached the gates. Lou Fe sent a look to the other man and they solemnly opened the gates for her to enter. Neither one spoke or offered her greeting; in fact, they didn't even look at her.

"What's going on?" Ranma asked.

Lou Fe waited for her to pass through before answering.

"She comes as one who is dead to us," he said quietly, "Go home Ranma."

"But-"

"Now!" Lou Fe snapped. It was the first time Ranma had seen him looking so angry. Surprised, Ranma just nodded and left.

He didn't go home though.

He followed Nuan, his curiosity getting the better of him. He watched as the Amazon's all turned their heads away from her and tried to keep his gaze on the determined look on her face. She was pale and had bags under her eyes, but something about the way she moved made it seem like she was feeling triumphant. Though of what, Ranma didn't know.

She reached the centre of the village soon enough and made her way to the hall where the elders usually met. A crowd of Amazons had now assembled, as had the elders of the tribe. Ranma noticed the hard expression on Cologne's face and wondered what was going on.

Without speaking, Nuan reached into the sack and pulled out a woman's head.

Ranma felt sick at the sight. Nuan held the severed head by a mane of black hair, raising it aloft for all the tribe to see. One of the elders spoke.

"You have reclaimed your honour," she announced, "Welcome home, daughter."

The repeated murmurings of 'welcome home daughter/sister' rang through the throng. Nuan put the head back in the sack and bowed low to the elders, a small smile finally gracing her lips.

Cologne's eyes suddenly found him.

 _The price for such an insult is death._

Ranma backed away and started running.

He wasn't really aware of anything except that he had to get away. The sight of the decapitated head seemed to follow him, as did the grim triumph in Nuan's face. He didn't understand.

She'd _killed_ someone.

And they were _celebrating_ it.

 _We are a merciless race._

He vaguely remembered the stipulation Cologne had made regarding his apprenticeship to her and wondered if she'd hold his head up in triumph like that if he failed. For the first time, the reality of what he had agreed to hit him. And if he had to 'defeat' this Happosai, did that mean he had to kill him, or that the Amazons wanted to do it themselves?

Either way, someone was going to die.

He felt sick.

 _Obstacles, as the saying goes, are for killing._

He'd agreed, but the implications had seemed so far away at the time. All he had wanted was to learn martial arts. To be what he had been his entire life. To become the best. He had been so scared of being on his own and losing those parts of himself, he hadn't given any thought to what would happen later.

But he'd given his word; he'd made the choice.

 _And if I don't win?_

 _You're life will be forfeit. You will die._

He'd never seen someone dead. The elders hadn't even let him see his father's corpse after the fever took him. All he could see now was that woman's face. Bloodless, expressionless…dead.

He'd _agreed_.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he muttered, and then said it again and again, "Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, _stupid_ …"

He felt hot tears stinging his cheeks, a brutal contrast to the cold air that bit at him. He kicked the snow beneath his feet as he ran, letting the tears blind him. From shock, to betrayal, to anger and finally to genuine fear, Ranma ran as his mind tried to make sense of the emotions.

He stopped running when he found himself near the Challenge Log. It was covered in snow and rarely used in the winter months. He climbed up on it anyway and brushed some slush away so he could take a seat. The tears stopped running and he used a sleeve to scrub them away. From here, the mountains were in view; mostly covered with low-lying clouds now. He stared at those mountains for a long time, trying to process what had happened.

"Nuan was overzealous," he barely gave a start when Cologne's voice interrupted his thoughts, "Proof is required, but a witness would have sufficed."

She laughed suddenly.

"I think it's been a good century since someone decided to bring body parts."

Ranma felt queasy.

"Why did she kill that woman?" he asked.

"She was an outsider," Cologne said, "She defeated Nuan in combat, so she was given the Kiss of Death."

"Just for that?" Ranma felt angry all of a sudden, "She didn't deserve to die because of that!"

He felt hot and oddly betrayed. He had never seen the Amazons like this.

"Yes," Cologne said wearily, "Just for that."

Ranma's fists clenched. All he could see in his head was the decapitated head of the woman. She must have a family. She must have people who would love and miss her. Why did she have to die over something so pointless?

"Why?" he chocked out.

"It's the law," the elder said, propping herself up on her walking stick, "It was the only way to restore her honour in the eyes of the village. To restore the honour _of_ the village."

Ranma didn't know what to say to that. His father had drilled the importance of honour in a martial artist and then turned around to steal a plate of food. If they were caught, Ranma had been the one who usually paid the price. He had always had a sense that honour was something different to the way his father acted, but he could never imagine killing someone to restore it.

"That doesn't seem right," he shook his head, "What could she possibly have done that made killin' someone alright?"

Cologne remained silent for a moment, closing her eyes and looking exasperated. Ranma wondered if she was contemplating how to explain this to a child. And in that moment he was very aware of his age. In this case though, he thought it was the grown-ups that didn't understand anything.

"What about Happosai?" he asked bluntly, "Is that what you'll do to him? Have _me_ do to him? Even if you just want me to defeat him, the end result will be this. I'll be condemning a man I don't even know to death! Why? Because he offended you? Because he's an obstacle? And what if I lose?"

"What did I tell you about obstacles, sonny?" the elder said quietly.

Ranma glared.

"I don't care!" he said angrily, "Its still wrong! I'll never – I'll never kill someone like that!"

"Then never lose," Cologne said softly, "Become the best and never lose. Then you'll never have to. I told you there was a price for being what we are. We're prepared to pay it, are you?"

She stilled him to silence again, the anger still bubbling up in him. He felt that odd sense of betrayal. This wasn't the people he had been growing to love. Not this. This couldn't be Lou Fe and Mei and Shampoo. This couldn't be Mousse or Cologne or what he would have to become. Life had to have some kind of value. It was the job of the martial artist to defend those weaker than himself, to protect and teach. It was not this struggle for power. Surely it couldn't be!

He didn't realize he'd voiced these thoughts aloud.

"It's about respect," Cologne responded quietly.

"What?" Ranma was confused.

Cologne looked at him then, measuring him in her steely gaze.

"Man, woman, it doesn't matter!" she prodded her cane into his chest, "Everything in this village is about respect. Gaining it, losing it, giving it, keeping it. We have survived because we have it, because we don't accept anything less. Nuan lost it and was shunned from the village, now she has it back. This is our way. For three thousand years."

"Well maybe you need to change!" Ranma bit back angrily.

"Change?" the elder laughed, "Why should we change? We've remained one of the most powerful tribes in China because of our ways. Why should we change anything because a little boy can't handle some blood? Things have been fought over for less."

"I don't like it," he said, a little weaker this time.

"You made the bargain," she said quietly, "Choices come with a price, sonny. I warned you of that. If you want to hold up your end, you'd best learn quickly how to adapt. You're a good martial artist Ranma, but you need to learn the meaning of respect."

"I'm not killing anyone," he muttered defiantly.

Cologne chuckled.

"You don't have to," she said easily, and Ranma almost believed her, "But you can start by sparring properly with the other martial artists of this tribe. Most of whom are girls.

"Pops said-" Ranma started and was hit on the head again.

"Your father might have been a good martial artist, but he was an egotistical fool," she snapped, "To underestimate someone because of a little thing like their gender _is_ foolish. Would you like it if I refused to train you because of you are a boy?"

Ranma remained silent.

"I thought not," Cologne huffed, "Do you think Shampoo or any of the other girls are inferior to you? Do you think they care for the art any less than you do?"

Ranma went stiff and actually took a moment to think about it. Shampoo was diligent in her training. She was out every morning at dawn, working on her forms. She put martial arts into every part of her life, whether it was riding her bicycle around the village or helping with chores.

"No," he admitted.

"But you will not treat them like the warriors they are," Cologne shook her head, "Why must they be girls first and martial artists second to you?"

"That's not what I think!" Ranma snapped.

"But its how you act, its what you say," she pushed, "You shame them."

Ranma screwed up his face.

"I don't mean to!" he cried desperately, "But Pops always said – and I –"

He didn't know what more to say.

"Holding on to your father's teachings because you _miss_ him will not help you to grow. Not as a martial artist and not as a man," Cologne said gravely, "Hold on only to what feels right."

"I know!" Ranma said miserably, "Its just…its hard not to think 'bout what he would say. Pops wasn't always the greatest…but he was still Pops!"

Cologne laid a hand on Ranma's shoulder in a show of sympathy and nodded.

"I know, child," she said, "I'm not asking you to forget him, I'm asking you to think about your future here. It's a hard path, one you will only make harder with this attitude. We once had a discussion about this when we first met, do you remember?"

Ranma nodded.

"Good," she said, "Think about that. Think about what you really want here. To be an Amazon is to be fierce, powerful and respected. We are strong. And we never let anything get in our way."

Ranma's head snapped up and his eyes narrowed.

"I'm not killing anyone!" he declared, "I'm not doing anything of those Kiss of Death and Kiss of Marriage things! You hear me _old ghoul_."

Cologne cackled, making the small boy flush with embarrassment.

"Then it's a good thing you're not a girl," she pointed out, "You'll never have to worry about them. Men rarely have the stomach for such things."

Ranma felt like she was the one being sexist now, but he didn't say anything. He knew the laws were applied differently for men and women. In that moment, he had never been more grateful for the separation than he was now. He thought it funny; men had decidedly less power than women here, but so much more freedom. The expectations of three thousand years of matriarchal tradition could never be fully placed on him.

Shampoo on the other hand.

He felt his stomach drop a little at the thought. Shampoo would be expected to live by these rules. It was why she trained so hard, it was why she wanted to be stronger. Respect, as Cologne had said, was everything here.

She had offered him respect as a sibling.

Why couldn't he do the same as a fellow martial artist?

While he mulled over these thoughts, trying to reconcile his father's teachings with those of the Amazons, Cologne gave a small cough. He looked back at her.

"I know this is hard to digest when you haven't grown up with it," she said, almost kindly, "And that wasn't the best introduction."

Ranma snorted.

She cocked him a rueful grin.

"You'll have time to figure things out," she said cryptically.

Ranma looked at her quizzically.

"Pack your bags, sonny," Cologne said quietly, "I'm sending you out in a week.

 **~R1/2~**

She was passing through Nerima, just a district over from where she lived, when she found herself walking passed a playground. It was mostly empty as the day had grown late and cold, but she paused. Something had caught her eye.

A lone figure was moving about. Drawn to the movement, Nodoka found herself staring. Dressed in a blue jacket with loosely fitting slacks and boots, was what Nodoka thought was a little boy at first. He was practicing a kata. That's what had drawn her, Ranma still ever present on her mind, making her inch closer. The boy, with his short, dark blue hair, suddenly turned in a sweeping motion and Nodoka realized her first assessment had been wrong.

It was a little girl!

She stared, surprised by the image of a small girl working furiously in the cold, her breath coming out in white plumes, quickened by the excursion.

Nodoka stood staring for what seemed an age before the little girl stopped her practice and disappeared.

When she returned home herself, sword still in hand, the image of the girl stayed with her into her dreams.

Nodoka walked by the same park again a few days later and sure enough, there was the little girl, all on her own, practicing katas in the snow.

The third time she came, she noticed the little girl stop and look at her for a while. Nodoka managed a smile and waved, pleased when the gesture was returned. She spent most of the afternoon watching her train again.

She returned once more, about a week later and was greeted with an unwelcome sight. The little girl was encircled by a group of older boys, all pushing her around. She had her fists clenched and was trying to find a way out of the jeering circle.

"Come on Akane- _kun_ ," one boy sneered meanly, "We just want to have some fun."

He reached forward and grabbed her by the wrist.

"Let me go!" the small girl growled, twisting out of the older boy's grip and kicking him in the stomach. Her attacker stumbled backwards, gasping for breath. His companion gave a cry of rage and tried to hit the small girl, but she was ready for him too, deflecting his attack with a block and aiming for his nose.

"Gah!" he cried, clutching his bleeding face.

The girl was back into a defensive stance, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet as she waited for another attack. It was then that Nodoka noticed the two additional boys trying to rush her from behind.

Gritting her teeth, she drew her sword.

Remembering a long ago lesson, she threw it.

The sword landed right at the feet of one of the advancing boys. He cried out in surprise and looked around him fearfully.

Nodoka placed a hand on her cheek and tried to look dismayed.

"Oh my!" she called, drawing the attention of both the group of boys and the girl, "I'm terribly sorry, I must have tripped!"

She glided pleasantly over to the blade and dislodged it from the ground. When she turned to look at the assembled group of boys, they were all watching her warily.

"This hardly seems manly," she commented, eyeing each of them in turn, "Go home, all of you."

The eldest boy glared at her and puffed out his chest, stepping forward.

"Its not your business-" he started to say arrogantly

"Oh dear!" Nodoka suddenly exclaimed, allowing the blade to slip ever so slightly from her grasp and narrowly miss hitting the boy. He froze and stared at her in horror.

"Forgive me," she said pleasantly, "It's been so long since I had any practice. I'm all butterfingers!"

With that, the boys all ran.

Nodoka turned, feeling satisfied, to see the girl, Akane, looking at her. She had a split lip, probably from an earlier attack and a defensive expression on her face. She seemed to study the older woman and then bowed her head.

"Thanks Auntie," she said briskly.

Nodoka sighed, sheathing her sword and drawing a handkerchief out. She knelt in front of Akane.

"Here," she said, pressing it to Akane's face, "This should help stop the bleeding."

Akane allowed her to help, watching her cautiously. After a drawn out silence, she asked;

"I'm gonna get in trouble, aren't I?"

Nodoka blinked.

"Why? It's not your fault."

Akane's eyes welled a little, but she put on a brave face.

"Cause I got into a fight," she said, "You'll tell my sister. That's what grown-ups do and I'll get into trouble."

"It didn't look like it was on purpose," Nodoka pointed out.

"My sister says I shouldn't get into fights, under any circumstances," she sniffed, "But its not like I asked them to gang up on me! They're just dumb boys!"

Nodoka pressed her lips together, not saying anything. She continued to dap Akane's lip, frowning at the cut.

"Why did they attack?" she asked.

"Kenta was being mean to my friend Sayuri," Akane said, "So I told him to stop. He tried to hit her, so I knocked him down. Then he got his friends together and they followed me after school."

She clenched her fists, furious tears finding their way down her cheeks.

"Kenta's older brother is in the boxing club," she explained, "He said he'd break my nose if I touched his little brother again. So when he attacked me, I broke his."

She said it in such a straightforward manner that Nodoka couldn't help but admire the little spitfire. She smiled, resisting the urge to chuckle and nodded her approval. It was the job of the martial artist to defend those who couldn't help themselves and Akane seemed to have made it her job to protect her friends.

Even if the bullies attentions were now aimed at her.

"How long has this been going on?"

Akane shrugged.

"A couple of months," she looked at Nodoka pleadingly, "Please don't tell my sister, she'll be really disappointed!"

"Hush," Nodoka assured her, "I just want to make sure you're okay."

Akane blushed red.

"Sorry," she mumbled out.

"So your names Akane?" Nodoka said warmly, "That's a lovely name."

Akane blushed and smiled hesitantly.

"My mother gave it to me," she said proudly, then looked down sadly.

The exchanged a few more words, Nodoka having finally cleaned up Akane's split lip and checked her over for other injuries. Akane's eyes suddenly widened and she quickly excused herself, saying she had to be home before dark. Looking up at the sky, Nodoka was just as surprised to see the late winter sun beginning to set.

"I'll be here tomorrow," she told Akane kindly, "If you'd like to talk some more."

In truth, Nodoka just wanted to make sure the little girl was alright. There was something eerily familiar about her, but Nodoka just could put her finger on it. Akane looked at her, clearly unsure, but nodded her head all the same.

Nodoka brought a thermos of hot chocolate with her the next day and some snacks. It was the start of many meetings. Akane would come to the playground to train and afterwards she and Nodoka would sit on one of the benches and talk. She described her school and her friends, she talked about the problems she was having with the boys in her class and how she was forever getting into trouble for fighting.

"Kasumi says I need to be more lady-like," she sighed, scuffing the ground with her foot, "I'm not very good at it, but I try! I do try Auntie!"

Nodoka frowned and gently reached out to turn her small face up and meet those big, brown eyes.

"You're a very cute girl, Akane-chan," she said, smiling at the little girl's wide eyed expression, "I like you just as you are."

Akane blinked.

"Really?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes," Nodoka gave her a little poke on the nose, "And I think you're going to be a wonderful martial artist someday. You just keep working on that, the rest will come in time."

A hesitant smile answered her and suddenly Akane barreled her way into Nodoka's arms, burying her face in the older woman's kimono. Nodoka was surprised, but welcomed the hug and wrapped her arms tightly around Akane. These little meetings were her solace; they kept her going throughout her search for Ranma.

Akane then started talking about her homelife and it was then that Nodoka made the connection. She stared at Akane, suddenly having a flashback to a very pale little face, kneeling beside her father and sisters dressed in black.

Nodoka blinked, "Tendo School of Anything Goes Martial Arts? You're Akane _Tendo_? Soun Tendo's youngest?"

The little girl looked up and nodded, her big brown eyes curious.

"Do you know Daddy?' she asked.

Nodoka smiled sadly.

"I knew both your parents a long time ago," she said, "I don't know if you remember me from your mother's funeral?"

Akane shook her head.

"Sorry Auntie, I don't remember," she looked sadly away, "I don't remember too much from that day."

Nodoka nodded in understanding.

"I lost my father when I was about your age," she admitted, "He was a great martial artist. This sword is his."

She held the katana out for Akane to inspect, happy to see she had elicited some curiosity from the girl.

"Its amazing!" Akane exclaimed, "I practice kendo with Ruka-sensei. He says I'm really good."

"I'm sure you are, Akane-chan," Nodoka looked at her thoughtfully, "Do you like kendo?"

Akane nodded vigorously.

"Yep!" she affirmed, "I do karate too. That's the kata I was doing earlier, Auntie."

"Karate?" Nodoka blinked, "How many martial arts do you take?"

"Just three," she launched into an explanation of each, telling Nodoka all about her teachers. It sounded like they were all affiliated with her school, through which she pursued the interest.

"I'll do more though," she added enthusiastically, "I'm an Anything Goes martial artist after all."

"You do all that _and_ train with your father?" Nodoka asked, shocked, "I'm surprised Soun allows you take on so much!"

"Oh, Daddy doesn't teach anymore," Akane said, putting on a brave face, "But-but sometimes he'll show me new things! And I've been learning on my own, so I'll be strong enough to take over the dojo someday!"

"Does Soun know you're out here?" Nodoka asked, concerned. She had assumed the girl's parents let her come out here to train, but the Tendos had their own dojo. Why wasn't Akane working there?

Akane shrugged.

Nodoka was not best pleased. Akane might end up being the wife of a martial artist. And more than that, unlike Nodoka, she had a genuine interest in following the Art herself and some talent to boot. There were many times in the years since Genma had taken her son away that Nodoka has wished she possessed the skills to follow and teach their son beside him. With the absence of the postcards, her only lifeline to her son felt like it had been severed _. Where was he now? Were Genma and Ranma alright?_ The worry was killing her.

She wouldn't let that be Akane's fate someday.

"Lets see if we can have a little chat with your father, shall we?" she said kindly, taking the little girl's hand, "Come on Akane-chan, you can tell me all about the training you've been doing on your own."

And when Akane's face burst out into a big smile, Nodoka melted.

Later, after speaking with Soun and meeting the older Tendo girls, Nodoka came to a decision. She couldn't do anything for her son right now, but there were three little girls who needed her.

 **~R1/2~**

The week didn't pass quickly enough for Ranma's liking.

After a lecture from Lou Fe, who hadn't been too pleased Ranma had disobeyed him and Shampoo's continued bad mood, he was practically counting the seconds before he could leave. He occupied the time by spending it with Mei and visiting his father's grave again. It would be the first time he had left the village since arriving and he didn't know when next he would have a chance.

When he arrived at the gravesite, he couldn't help taking a cautious look around. Ever since his meeting with that stranger, Ranma had been wary of just stumbling into the clearing. His first visit back after meeting the stranger had revealed nothing amiss, but he still had the sense that something had been disturbed. Maybe it was just the intrusion, Ranma didn't think it felt quite as peaceful anymore.

He sat down in the snow, ignoring the cold and took a deep breath.

"Hey Pop," Ranma rested his hand on the grave stone, "This'll be my last visit for a while. I'm goin' on a training trip."

He paused.

"I haven't figured out everything yet, not about being an Amazon," he licked his lips, "And I'm kinda scared. Yeah, I know you're probably rolling in your grave hearing that, but I am. Things are different now, I guess."

He shook his head.

His father wouldn't have understood. Not about this.

"Goodbye Pop," he said finally, "I'll see ya around."

As he made his way back to the village, his thoughts brought him to what _he_ understood. He went to find Shampoo.

She was in the training hall. She had a staff in her hands and was furiously working through a number of jabs and blocks. There was a determined expression on her face and she didn't even look up when Ranma entered. He stood and watched her for a while, before making himself known.

" _You're working up a sweat_ ," he said lightly, " _You'll stink later_."

A scowl crossed her face, but she didn't stop what she was doing.

Ranma sighed. What did she expect? An apology? No, he didn't think that would do. And besides, he'd probably say the wrong thing if he tried.

" _Shan Pu_ ," he said quietly, " _Spar with me?_ "

Shampoo stopped in her tracks, looked up at him and frowned.

" _You'll hold back_ ," she said bitterly.

Ranma shook his head.

" _I won't_ ," he said sincerely, " _No techniques though, just sparring_."

Shampoo nodded her agreement and set down the staff.

Ranma readied himself, feeling apprehensive. He knew Shampoo was good. He had watched her often enough and he wasn't aiming to hurt her. It was a friendly spar. It was training. He respected her as a fellow martial artist. He did.

She was faster than he thought and managed to get in a few good hits, but Ranma's defense was better. He managed to weave through her attacks and land a couple of hard strikes.

Ranma won the spar in the end and waited for the tirade, but instead Shampoo just got back up, walked over to him and beamed, hugging him with all her might.

He blushed, trying to pry her off.

" _Hey! I said you stink!_ " he protested, " _Get off!"_

But Shampoo just held on tighter.

Giving up, Ranma briefly returned the hug and decided, though he'd never admit it aloud, that it wasn't _that_ bad. And besides, after that, things with Shampoo got a lot better.

The rest of the week, he trained with the other Amazons, male and female. It took some getting used to, fighting girls that was and his Pop's voice kept resounding in the back of his head, but he pushed it away. The girls were hard on him, probably trying to get back at him for his comments.

 _You shame them._

Well, he wasn't going to do that again.

He couldn't live by the rules they did, but he could respect them and try to understand them.

He thought about the stipulation Cologne had made when he'd entered into her apprenticeship. The Amazons could be warm, they cared about their community and bandied together when the need arose.

But there was an underlining hardness about them.

Cruel, ruthless and unforgiving.

Survival.

Three thousand years of existing, of tradition and law. Three thousand years they had survived by being rigid and unyielding in their ways.

But Ranma was the heir to the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts, not to generations of Amazon history. Reconciling the two ways of life was going to be difficult and he felt a wave of relief that Cologne would be sending him out to train in other villages. He was going to do what Cologne said and figure out what felt right to him. He understood honour and he thought he was starting to understand respect, even if he didn't agree entirely with the Amazon way of maintaining the two.

The week passed quickly enough. He zipped up his pack and made the last of his preparations. He had a lot to learn. He had everything to learn.

He said goodbye to Mei first. She hugged him tightly and kissed his forehead, telling him to be careful and work hard. Shampoo came next, she practically glomped him, an action he was still getting used to and demanded he come back soon. She grinned as she drew away and declared;

" _I'll get stronger too, next time you won't beat me._ "

He returned the grin and flicked her on the forehead teasingly.

" _We'll see_ ," he laughed.

Lou Fe and Cologne were waiting for him. He'd see Cologne off at the gates and Lou Fe would escort him to the village he would be staying in over the next few months. He shouldered his pack and followed.

It was a cold, crisp day. The snow was still heavy on the ground and his breath left his mouth in white plumes. The cold never bothered him all that much, as he was too used to the rough life he had shared with Genma, but he still shivered under the sudden chill. He felt a thrill of anticipation run through him and couldn't stop the almost feral smile that crossed his lips. It had been nearly a year since he had been on the road and he couldn't deny feeling excited about the prospect.

"Give the master this letter," Cologne was saying, handing Ranma an envelope, "And give him my greetings."

Ranma nodded, slipping the letter into his pocket.

He didn't say anything.

It was the start of another chapter in his life. The night before his foster family had made him a feast to wish him luck. He grinned at the memory.

At the gates of the village, Ranma finally turned and set Cologne with a determined look.

"You better be ready for me, _baa-chan_ , cause I'll be coming back to challenge you again."

Cologne blinked at the unexpected endearment and a grin slowly flooded her face. She let out a laugh as Ranma turned and strode out the gates, Lou Fe following amusedly behind.

"Well great-grandson," she said fondly, "It seems you'll make my life more interesting than I thought."


	5. How To Raise A Wild Horse

**How to Raise a Wild Horse**

Anyone who looks back on the years of childhood acknowledges that it passes quickly. If anyone asked Ranma when he thought his childhood had ended, he probably would have said it was the moment his father had wrapped him up in scraps of fish and flung him into a pit full of starving cats. He'd have chosen this moment, because what followed had been the worst week of his young life.

Having barely recovered from the experience, his father had taken ill with some debilitating illness and told Ranma that they had to get to the village of the Amazons and soon. He had been relatively fine at first, but eventually the fever had taken him and Genma Saotome had been unable to move. All the anger and mistrust Ranma had been feeling for the old man since had ebbed away and he had done his best to carry and then drag the man to the Amazon village.

Not even a day after arriving, after _finally_ getting there, Genma had died and Ranma was left alone.

A few weeks later he had demonstrated himself as an adept of the neko-ken and had to make the first truly adult decision of his life.

Be imprisoned, run away or be trained to do the Amazon's bidding when the time came.

He had chosen the third.

But if anyone _had_ asked Ranma about his childhood, he would have admitted in a heart beat that the Amazons had given him a piece of it back. He had been able to make friends, truly play with children his own age, be comforted and supported by a mother and father and even learn to like and be a brother to a purple haired girl.

That wasn't to say that Ranma didn't get into a good deal of trouble. When martial artists and magic were involved, there was very little that couldn't happen. And China had plenty of both.

There was the time Shampoo had tried on a broach she found in Cologne's old things. The thing made her revert back to her hatred for Ranma from when they were kids. Worse still, the broach made its way through a number of hands, jumping to Mei (who tried to wring poor Lou Fe's neck) and even to Mousse (who declared Ranma his eternal rival). By the time they realized it was the infamous Reversal Gem, the stupid thing had caused a huge uproar in the village.

Then there was Lung-Lung and Ling-Ling. During one of Ranma's absences from the village, Shampoo had apparently taken the two girls under her wing. By the time Ranma returned, they idolized his foster sister and were practically out for his blood. They almost wrecked half the village trying to prove how unsuitable he was to be Shampoo's brother. Ranma spent the better part of three days trying not to get in the way of their contraptions and scheming. _The persistent brats_. In the end though, they seemed to take a shine to him and were torn between wanting him as a big brother and declaring they would marry him someday. Mei and Shampoo thought it was cute and poor Ranma just wanted to lie down.

And that wasn't his only run in with 'twin' terrors. Shampoo had a rivalry with the herbalists Pink and Link that had begun when they were six. After an incident involving Pink trying to poison him and Ranma blaming Link for the crime (really, how was he supposed to know they were identical twins?), they'd made him into their favourite test subject. Cologne was no help at all and even encouraged them. It was, she reasoned, a good way for Ranma to start building an immunity to certain poisons.

Ranma, for his part, managed to anger a rather irate boy around his own age with a most unfortunate name. Pantyhose Taro had come to the Amazons seeking information about Happosai. When none was offered, he became enraged and turned himself into a huge, bull like monster. It was the first time Ranma had experienced the dreaded magic of Jusenkyo. The battle didn't last long, not with a village full of trained warriors. Feeling some sympathy for the boy, Ranma had tried to reassure him by telling him he was out to catch Happosai too. He hadn't responded well.

" _Interfere with me_ ," Taro growled threateningly, " _And I'll kill you_."

And that, Ranma decided, was the last time he tried to be civil with an angry little jerk.

Taro was by no means the last cursed individual he encountered and Cologne explained that due to their proximity to the cursed pools, they saw the victims more often than other tribes did, though they rarely caused _much_ trouble.

Which Ranma was thankful for, because he certainly had enough of it.

In between the madness of the Amazons, Ranma found another kind of adventure during his apprenticeships. He very quickly developed a streak of independence. At first, Lou Fe had taken him wherever he needed to go, but Ranma had quickly learned how to handle himself, gaining more trust and making more choices for himself when it came to his learning. With an inborn thirst not only to prove, but also to challenge himself, Ranma had on quite a few occasions stumbled across his own teachers.

Some were a little more unsavory than others and almost all put him through his paces, but Ranma relished the feeling of coming out on top.

It was the year he turned thirteen that he completed his ninth apprenticeship. This one had lasted six months and had seen Ranma to the border of Tibet. His master there, an aging monk with more patience than stone and an odd addiction to gambling (especially once he found out Ranma had no skill at bluffing), had put Ranma through one of his most challenging experiences yet. He had never had to learn to meditate or consider the life energies of the world around him. He remembered several instances where his father had considered such practices as useless to the art. But as Ranma soon learned, control of the mind was as important as any martial arts technique. Calm, focus and awareness, his teacher had taught him, were essential. Without these, one could never become a true master.

In a monastery build high into a mountain face and surrounded by nothing but forest and streams, Ranma had lived and learned with the other initiates. It was a peaceful time and so detached from the life he knew. Eventually though, he'd left too. A wandering heart and too much quiet were never a good combination.

He was looking forward to getting back home.

Adjusting his pack, Ranma grinned tiredly as he spotted the familiar gates of the village coming into view. He was looking forward to a bath and a fresh change of clothes. It had been several months since he had last been home. The smell of wood smoke and pine trees beckoned him, welcoming him like a mother's embrace. A spring came into his step and he broke into a brisk jog, his pack bumping up against him as he did. He recognized the two guards at the gate and waved enthusiastically as he approached. Both were male, once outsiders, but now guardians of the tribe's future.

" _Hello Ranma_!" the deep voice of Benji, a large dark skinned man who always wore a white turban and scented oil in his black beard, greeted in his most welcoming tone. Ranma looked up and grinned widely; the man came from somewhere in the West Indies and had been well known in his own land for his skill with a knife.

" _Hi Benji_ ," Ranma yelled back excitedly, then waved to the other, " _Hi Sten_!"

Sten was the type of man who didn't look as dangerous as he really was. A narrowly built man, he leaned lazily on his quarterstaff, green eyes half closed and waved back just as lazily to Ranma. Lou Fe had once told Ranma that the man was about as harmless as a cobra.

" _How were the monks_?" Sten drawled.

" _Okay I guess_ ," the thirteen year old frowned a little, " _They wanted me to stay longer, but they said I'd have to shave my hair off._ "

The older men both chuckled, clearly amused by Ranma's boyish concern. The young teen blushed scarlet, knowing how that sounded. Martial artists traditionally gave up a lot more than just their hairstyles in the name of perfecting their art.

" _Careful, young peacock_ ," Benji teased gently, " _I think the women are rubbing off on you_."

" _Pah_!" Sten rose an eyebrow, " _Like you're one to talk, I can smell the perfume in your beard from here!_ "

" _Some people envy well groomed facial hair_ ," the dark skinned man said smugly, eyeing Sten's bare face.

" _Some people realize it's a hazard in a fight_ ," Sten retorted, his lazy stance starting to tense a little.

" _I'd like to see you prove that_!"

Ranma yelled a hasty goodbye to the men, but was met with no more than nods of acknowledgement before the two continued their argument. Ranma just smiled and shook his head, eager to get home after months of being away.

The village hadn't changed much in all the time he'd been gone, he noticed they'd put in a new challenge log and wondered who had managed to finally break the last one. He waved to a few familiar faces, bowed respectfully to a passing elder (who didn't seem too happy he was back) and managed to run into none other than Cologne.

The small woman pogoed on her cane beside him as he approached home.

"Welcome back Ranma," she said in Japanese, her tone approving, "I received a letter from the monks a few days ago, they said you are on your way to becoming a true master."

"They wanted me to shave my head," he grumbled dismissively, secretly pleased with the praise.

Cologne chuckled.

"And cut off that lovely head of hair?" she smiled fondly, "Nah, no great grandson of mine should be going around looking like a ragamuffin. Besides, you can't trust bald men."

Ranma just rolled his eyes, knowing she was referring to Happosai again, a man whose description he was by now firmly familiar with.

"Someone should go break up Sten and Benji," he said to change the subject, "They were getting into it again when I passed the gate."

"About what this time?"

"Facial hair."

Cologne closed her eyes, muttering something under her breath about 'men.' Ranma couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped his lips. One could always count on Benji and Sten to cause problems.

The Elder cast him an accusatory glare.

"You mentioned the monks, didn't you?"

Ranma just smiled, picking up his pace before Cologne could grab him. She let him go, an amused look in her eyes as she yelled;

"Try not to get into anymore trouble!"

Ranma laughed, waving a hand to let her know he'd heard. He continued his way through the village, stopping only once more to greet Mousse's father, Feng. The man looked like an older version of Mousse, with the same long black hair and a pair of thick, square framed glasses balancing on his nose. He smiled in greeting when he saw Ranma, though he seemed preoccupied with the blade in his lap.

As the village's most sought after weapons maker, Feng was seen more often than not with some project or other in his hands.

"Welcome back, Ranma," Feng's voice was deep, "I hope you've enjoyed your travels?"

Ranma beamed.

"Very much," he assured the older man, then asked, "Is Mousse back yet?"

Like Ranma, Mousse was also fulfilling an apprenticeship outside the village. His though, would last far longer than any of Ranma's.

"Not yet," Feng smiled softly, "He'll be visiting for a few weeks this time."

Ranma couldn't contain the relieved smile that spread across his face. Too often, he and Mousse missed each other on their trips home. It had been nearly a year now since Ranma had seen his friend. As least this time, they'd both be in the village for sometime before heading out.

He spoke briefly with Feng, exchanging news and sending his regards on to Mousse's mother, before they parted ways. Turning, he grimaced when he saw Liling headed towards him.

She still wore her brown hair in a braid over one shoulder and smiled when she saw him, a smile he had come to recognize was just meant for him. It had been that way since the time he had been roped into playing games with some of the Amazon girls. Kissing games.

Ranma had been tricked into playing once and walked away with more than one nick to his neck. His own fault, he supposed, he should have known any games Amazons played would involve blades.

Still, ever since then, Liling had been…odd. And the rest of the Amazon girls would giggle when he was around. He'd tried to ask Shampoo about it, but her answers were never very clear. He didn't wait for Liling to get close enough to talk, darting off in the opposite direction as quickly as he could. _Stupid girls…_

Ranma jogged the rest of the way home. His smile widened considerably when he saw Mei tending to the garden and waved as he approached.

"Mei!"

The Amazon warrior looked up from her work, pushing dark blue locks from her face and peering up to the source of the call. When she saw Ranma, she dropped the flowers she had been picking and just about ran to meet him. The thirteen year old spared no time in barreling into the woman with a hug.

"You're finally home!" Mei exclaimed, giving the boy who was now nearing her own height a tight squeeze and drawing back to look at him, "And you need a bath, look at you! You're covered in dirt! What have those monks been teaching you?"

Ranma just gave her an affectionate, if sheepish grin. Three days on the road hadn't lent itself to proper bathing facilities and he had had a few spars with other travelling martial artists on the way. He rubbed the back of his head and shrugged.

It was good to be home.

"I'll get to it now," he promised her, "I can't wait to tell you about-"

Ranma didn't get to finish his sentence.

A loud horn sounded in the distance, joined by another and another.

It was the village's warning system.

Ranma and Mei both turned at the sound, Mei's eyes narrowing slightly. It was the first time Ranma had ever heard the horns being sounded during his time at the village. The last time this had happened had been during an attempted invasion some thirty years previously by a rival village that had conspired to steal Amazon knowledge and further their own status as warriors. They had been unsuccessful of course, but the memory of what had transpired that night still seemed to irk most of the tribe's inhabitants.

It had been the closest they'd ever come to being invaded.

"Stay here," Mei ordered.

"But-" Ranma protested.

"Shampoo is in the house," she carried on, "Look after her, I'll be right back."

She leapt onto one of the roofs of a nearby house and ran towards the Western gates with all the warrior's agility she had. Ranma watched in awe at the rare display and made his way inside. He found Shampoo about to bound out of the front door, but she froze when she saw him and instead engulfed him in a welcoming hug.

" _Ranma_!" she squealed, apparently having forgotten the horns for the moment, " _When did you get home_?"

Ranma endured his foster sibling's overly enthusiastic glomp with a tired sigh before working his way out of her grip. As much as he cared about the girl, he wasn't really one for her encasing displays of affection. He loosened his pack and dropped it to the floor before giving her a warm smile.

" _Just now_ ," he said, switching back to Chinese, Shampoo had never really taken the time to learn her brother's mother tongue, " _Mei says to stay here till she gets back_."

Shampoo pouted, but nodded in agreement.

For his part, Ranma's feet were starting to itch, his curiosity getting the better of him. If there was going to be a fight, then he wanted to be part of it. He had gotten a lot stronger during his time with the monks, faster too. He felt more confident in himself and was looking forward to his next sparring match with Cologne. He also felt calmer; the monks had tried to quell his battle eagerness by installing mediation as part of his training.

That had taken Ranma the longest to learn.

They were standing just outside the house, exchanging news, when it happened.

Ranma suddenly tensed, a foreign presence sending a chill up his spine. He looked around, trying to find the source of the disturbance.

" _Back inside, Shan Pu_ ," he told his foster sister gruffly.

She huffed.

" _Ranma_ ," she started, looking annoyed.

" _Now! Shan Pu-!_ " he was cut off when something darted right at him. He grabbed Shampoo about the waist and hefted her up, leaping onto the roof just as something very fast crashed into the side of their house. His sister scrambled out of her arms in a moment and already had her fists up and ready as the dust cleared and their intruder was revealed.

It was a boy.

 _With dog-ears?_

The intruder leapt to his feet, an action that made Ranma tense slightly. He moved forward instinctively, putting more distance between his sister and the danger. Their attacker shook the dust from his hair, peering around to see where they had gone. His gaze finally zeroed in on them.

" _Wow! You're pretty!_ " he exclaimed and in a second was right in front of Shampoo. Ranma's eyes widened. He hadn't even seen the kid move, how the heck was he that fast?

" _Hey! Get away from her!_ " he snarled, reaching out to grab the shorter boy. Dog-ears eyes glinted and a wicked grin crossed his lips as he avoided Ranma's hands. The Amazon raised boy growled as his fingers grasped thin air and made another motion to catch the stranger.

Dog-ears avoided him again, this time managing to sidle up to Shampoo. With a curious look in his eyes, he poked her bottom.

And received a smack across the face for his trouble.

" _Aieee-yah_!" Shampoo screamed, " _Get away from me!_ "

Ranma managed to catch the boy by the scruff of his collar, pulling him up and glaring.

" _What the hell is your problem?_ " he snapped angrily.

" _She's a girl!_ " dog-ears exclaimed, " _A real girl!_ "

" _Seriously, what do you want?_ " Ranma snapped, in no mood to play games. His hackles were raised. Not only was there a stranger in the village, but that stranger was faster than him. He didn't know what else dog-ears could do, and that made him a threat.

" _I defeat her and she goes on a date with me!_ " the boy announced.

Ranma cocked his head to the side. The kid obviously didn't understand _at all_.

" _Aren't you a little young to be dating anyone?_ " he said tiredly.

The dog-eared boy shook his head emphatically and shot Ranma a glare. In a second, he was free of Ranma's grip, standing with his head held high.

" _I'm a man_!" he declared, " _A man of the Musk and a descendant of the wolf. I'm training to be part of Prince Herb's personal guard, like my father before me_."

Ranma frowned. _Musk. Musk. Musk_. Where he had he heard that name before? He could feel Shampoo stiffen beside him.

Then it clicked.

 _Neko-ken._

The Musk Dynasty had created the Neko-ken.

But weren't they extinct?

" _Look kid_ ," he started.

" _I'm not a kid_ ," dog-ears snarled, " _I'm fourteen_!"

Ranma blinked.

He was a year older than Ranma? But he looked like such a little twerp!

" _Whatever. Listen, I'll give ya a little sage advice. That aint no way to treat an Amazon woman_ ," he told the older boy sagely.

Shampoo nodded in agreement.

" _You wanna get your butt whooped? They're downright violent_."

" _Ranma_!" Shampoo hissed, smacking him on the head and glaring at him angrily.

Ranma looked at the other boy.

" _See what I mean_?"

He shot a teasing grin at his foster sister, letting her know he was only _half_ serious. Her eyes narrowed, promising revenge for later.

The boy didn't seem to listen though, for he steeled himself up with a determined glint in his eye and shot towards Shamppo again.

It was over before Ranma could blink.

His foster sister had indeed gotten a lot better in the months he had been away, he mused as he watched her draw back her fist and send it right at the stranger's stomach, just as he rushed her.

And really, Ranma thought as he watched the kid soar into the clouds, he'd given fair warning. He cast a glance to his sister and a mischievous twinkle entered his eye.

" _Stupid boy_!" Shampoo was growling, " _Doesn't know what's good for him!_ "

" _Maybe ya oughta play one of your kissing games with him,_ " Ranma pointed out, thinking of Liling, " _That should make him think twice about it_."

Shampoo flushed bright red and smacked her foster brother off the roof of the house.

 **~R1/2~**

Ranma picked himself up from the ground, brushing down his clothes and looking up to scowl at Shampoo. She had her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised in defiance.

" _Go find Lou Fe_ ," he told her, suddenly not in the mood, " _Tell him about the stranger and stay with him_!"

" _Ranma_ -" she started, eyes flaring.

" _Damn it Shan-Pu, just go_!" Ranma growled.

She huffed, but obeyed this time, disappearing from the roof.

Ranma paused, looking at the space where she had been and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. The Musk huh? This couldn't be good. He didn't think anyone who could have invented a technique like the Neko-ken could be good.

 _The Neko-ken._

The curse his father had so callously placed on him. It had been hard, those first few years. It was just another reason for people to distrust him and push him out. It had gotten better though, especially as he seemed to gain more trust, but even now he sometimes noticed the parents of young children watching him a little more cautiously than needed.

He hated it. Hated feeling like his own mind could betray him at any given time. He brushed away the thoughts, it was just a reminder of what he couldn't control and he hated that even more. He got up and started to make his way to the village hall, hoping to find Cologne there.

Suddenly, Ranma heard yells and recognized one of the voices. He didn't even blink and darted in the direction of Mei's voice. He ran over the rooftops, dropping down to the ground of the village square.

There were two more strange boys there, one wore tiger stripes and towered over Ranma by at least a head. The other was more finely attired, in gold and white armour that shone brightly in the sunlight, making him stand out. Ranma, in his travel worn clothes and dirty shoes, thought the strange boy looked like a pompous peacock. And his hair! Ranma had seen a lot of strange colours on a person, but never this tri coloured combination of pink, blue and silver. Golden eyes snapped to him from under those silver bangs, making Ranma pause.

 _Just who was this freak?_

He didn't have time to think on it though, when he saw his foster mother holding an injured arm and glaring at the strangely dressed boy with anger. That was all the proof Ranma needed to know the boy was dead.

He leapt into the fray, ignoring Cologne's cry for him to leave – he hadn't even noticed she was there, he was so focused on Mei – and placed himself squarely between the two. If the strange boy was surprised, he didn't show it. His golden eyes took in Ranma, assessing him.

"What's goin' on here?" Ranma was so flustered, he forgot to speak Chinese, "They hurt you, Mei?"

He cast his gaze back to his foster mother, but did not otherwise move.

"Go home, Ranma," Cologne finally spoke, "This is not your concern."

"But-"

"I made an error," Mei said quietly, reaching out to touch Ranma's shoulder, "Stand down."

But Ranma didn't. He tensed up, recognizing the cautious look in the Amazon's faces and feeling the danger lick at his nerves.

"Not till you tell me who the jerk in the multi-coloured duds is?"

The tiger boy snarled at him, darting forward to attack Ranma. His companion held an arm out to stop him, one chilling look stilling him to stone.

"So this is the famous Amazon foundling," golden eyes smirked, watching Ranma again, "I had expected someone…more impressive."

 _Amazon foundling_. The often-cruel nickname given to him by the outside villages. A remainder that he wasn't one of them, nor was he part of them. He was just the child lucky enough to be taken in. He hated it.

Ranma knew better. He had had six months of learning better than acting on his anger, but the fear in Mei's face was palatable now and a protective instinct raged in Ranma.

Both feelings made his blood boil.

"You got something to say to me, pretty boy?" he growled.

The tiger boy snapped to attention at that.

"You will address Prince Herb with the respect he demands," he said gruffly, taking a step towards Ranma, only to be held back again by golden eyes.

Ranma was about to snap back hat he didn't care who the hell this guy was, when Herb interrupted them.

"Forgive my companions," the prince said lazily, "They're not used to…females."

Every 'female' in the room seemed to stiffen at that statement.

Ranma opened his mouth with another retort when a commotion drew his attention. Shampoo came darting into the square, her eyes wide and wild with fear. She ran to him immediately and it was then Ranma saw what followed.

Dog-ears.

He grabbed Shampoo and pressed her in behind him before the Musk boy could reach her. When dog-ears found himself staring at Ranma once more, he pouted dramatically.

"You again?" he whined.

"I told you keep away from her!" Ranma barked.

"What are you? Her boyfriend?" the boy asked, looking confused.

"Her brother," Ranma said in a hard voice, his battle aura flaring a little. The Musk boy flinched visibly and actually took a step back.

"Okay, okay," he said finally, "I got it. Keeping away."

Herb didn't look amused.

"I told you to behave yourself," he took in the tiger boy, "Both of you."

Tiger boy smiled and shrugged.

"Still," the prince mused loudly, "Its hardly their fault the men in this tribe are too weak to keep their women safe. That woman you like so much could be taken rather easily."

He inclined his head toward Mei.

Everyone stiffened. Ranma felt anger rage inside him, not liking the threatening tone in the older boy's voice.

"You wanna fight?" Ranma snarled, jumping in without thinking.

Golden, reptilian eyes shot to him and an arrogant sneer met his question.

"Back down, little boy," he said mockingly, "I could squash you like a bug."

"I'd like to see you try!"

"Ranma!" Cologne scolded, "Stay down, child. This is not your concern!"

"He threatened Mei!" Ranma argued.

Cologne was about to open her mouth in retort, when the Musk prince started to laugh. He set his golden eyes on Ranma, looking highly amused by the outburst. He looked at Mei.

"I…apologize," though he didn't sound too sorry, "I was being over excitable it seems, as were my companions. We mean no harm, I assure you."

He turned to Ranma.

"I would be happy to spar with you…bug," his smile widened when Ranma snarled, "A friendly match, what do you say? Between _men_."

He extended a hand.

Before Cologne could stop him, Ranma stepped forward and grasped Herb's hand. Both young men squeezed tightly.

"A friendly match," Ranma agreed, gritting his teeth, "Between _martial artists_."

Herb's golden eyes narrowed dangerously, but his smile was still there, as arrogant as ever.

"One hour," he told the younger boy, releasing his hand, "Be ready."

Ranma made his lips stretch in turn.

"Take your own advice," he snapped.

The prince inclined his head, gesturing to his companions.

"Mint, Lime," he said, his tone bored, "We have business to conclude with the elders, come."

The three disappeared without another word. Ranma was still staring after them, his fists clenched tightly.

Until Cologne hit him over the head with her staff.

"Ouch!" he hissed, "What was that for?"

"Foolish, foolish boy!" the elder scolded, striking him again, "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"He-" Ranma started to protest, only to receive another hit.

"You bull headed idiot, I'll tell you what you've done!" she snarled, "You've picked a fight with the next leader of one of the strongest warrior peoples in China. Do you have any idea what you're up against? No! You rushed in and got yourself into a big mess!"

"He didn't look that tough," Ranma pouted.

"Didn't look that-?" Cologne closed her eyes, muttering under her breath, "I don't know if you're that naïve or that foolish. He is a descendant of a dragon! They are renowned for their ki techniques. There's no telling how strong he is!"

"It's a spar, baa-chan," Ranma said cockily, "I can take him."

Cologne looked like she wanted to kit him again.

 **~R1/2~**

As Ranma prepared himself for the match, Lotion sidled up to Cologne, gesturing for her to follow so that they might speak privately. Cologne nodded her assent and followed, casting an exasperated glance back at her great grandson.

"I doubt the Musk prince will hurt him," Lotion said quietly, noticing her look, "He came here for peaceful reasons."

As they drifted away from the crowd, Cologne's head snapped back to her fellow Elder and she gave a long sigh.

"It seems like such a little thing," she said slowly, "To break centuries of isolation over. But the prince seems adamant."

"He is young still," Lotion sighed, "Young and untested. There have been far worse qualities in a man."

Cologne smirked.

"Do we give any credence to his _warning_?"

"Nine Musk warriors disappearing is certainly notable," Lotion said thoughtfully, "But hardly worrying. There could be any number of reasons, the most obvious of which that they rushed into a situation they couldn't handle."

"Yes," Cologne agreed, "But it has obviously worried him enough to invoke old treaties..."

The ancient warrior tribes of China rarely had much to do with one another except squabble over title and territory, bar for one case. In the case of war or invasion by 'outside' forces, the tribes would ally with one another until the threat was dealt with. It was also understood that this meant warning ones neighbours if any threat to one tribe might affect another. For the Musk to be holding to this ancient courtesy was troubling indeed.

But was this the action of an overzealous prince thirsting to prove himself? Or the beginnings of real danger?

Cologne followed Lotion quietly into one of the rooms of the main training hall, where the other Elders stood, awaiting to make a decision. Although the Musk prince had appeared before them respectfully, making his case in the appropriate manner and adhering to the traditions afforded to outsiders in the tribe, it did not lessen the fact that he was a teenage boy.

And more than that, he was of the Musk. It wouldn't be the first time the ancient warrior tribe had tried to conquer the Amazons.

They spoke quickly and quietly, before coming to a decision, then they summoned the Musk prince to them. He came in alone, his head held high and arrogant, but he bowed to them respectfully.

"You've discussed it then?" he asked.

"We have," Lotion said with forbearance, "We thank you for your warning and will keep an eye out for any…unusual activity."

The prince frowned, clearly not liking their answer.

"But you don't believe me," he stated, narrowing his eyes.

The Elders were all silent for a moment. Their answer could have diplomatic repercussions after all.

"It is not a question of belief," Cologne put in, "We will take heed of your warning, but until we have seen credible proof…"

"You will do nothing," Herb bit out, his tone bitter. Then he seemed to recover himself, standing straight and then bowing with respect. His golden armour gleamed in the sunlight. Before either Elder could say a word, the prince spoke.

"I believe I have a match to get to," he said, his tone flat, "Thank you for your time."

Cologne watched him depart feeling unsatisfied over the decision. The Musk had buried themselves for so long, most people were sure of their extinction. For their prince to break centuries of isolation, there must have been some urgency. She frowned thoughtfully, casting a glance around the other Elders in the room. On the other hand, agreeing with the Musk would be a dangerous move. They all well remembered the Musk and their power. Many would think it best to wash their hands of the matter entirely.

Still, she had the feeling this decision would not bode well for them in the future.

 **~R1/2~**

Half the village was gathered to watch the fight between Ranma and the Musk Prince. Mei had her arm in a sling and was fussing over her foster son, torn between scolding him for his foolishness and wishing him luck. Shampoo kept telling Ranma to beat him into the dust, to prove the might of the Amazons. Lou Fe shook his head and told Ranma not to lose his temper like that again.

"It'll go hard on you if you do," he said quietly, but seemed proud of Ranma for defending his family.

Ranma swallowed hard and nodded.

The two Musk boys, Lime and Mint – Lime being tiger boy and Mint dog-ears – lounged together, seeming disinterested in the whole affair. That didn't stop them from eyeing the women as they passed, though they made no move beyond that.

Eventually, amid all the fuss and bother, Ranma found himself facing Herb. The prince regarded him for several moments before speaking.

"We haven't set terms," the prince said grandly, smiling at Ranma.

"Terms?"

"Winner names his prize, deal?" Herb's golden gaze went to the small group of elders. At their solemn nod, he looked back at Ranma, that hungry expression back on his face.

"Yeah, whatever," Ranma ground out dismissively, "Lets just get this done, ya big jerk."

"As you wish," the prince's smile was down right sadistic.

Ranma rolled into an easy stance, wary of what the Musk prince would do. His golden eyes were watching the younger martial artist with vague interest and there was an arrogant smirk on his angled face. For a long time, they both just stood staring, neither one willing to move until they were sure of what the other would do. Ever the impulsive one, Ranma decided to make the first move. A jabbing hit that was swiftly blocked. Ranma spun on the ball of his foot, not letting up as he aimed a kick for the taller boy's head.

They moved into a rhythm after that, like a perfect kind of dance. To the onlookers, their movements seemed to blur into one another. When one attacked, the other was ready with a block and a counter. For minutes they continued in this fashion, until someone finally scored the first hit.

It was Herb. He caught Ranma on the jaw, sending the younger boy stumbling back from the blow. Ranma blinked, disorientated for a moment. Herb backed away instead of pushing his advantage, smirking. Bringing up a hand to his mouth, Ranma resisted a wince as his finger tips came into contact with a split lip.

"First blood," one of the elders announced, "Goes to Prince Herb."

Ranma's jaw ached and he worked it for a few seconds to make sure nothing was wrong. Herb had scored the first point, if he did it again, he'd win.

Ranma took a deep breath, trying to gain control of his emotions. He'd been careless in that last move. He was so angry with the Musk prince, for his arrogance and his attitude towards the tribe. He'd overestimated himself and now realised the prince was _a lot_ better than he thought he was. He was losing his focus and if he did that, he was definitely going to lose. He stood straight, taking a few more calming breaths and readied himself once more.

This time, Herb was the one who struck first, coming in fast. Ranma barely had time to block his blow, but this worked to his advantage. It gave him an excellent shot at Herb's solar plexus. He used his free hand to hammer into the parts of the body he had been taught would cause the most harm, ending it with a kick that sent the prince sprawling backwards.

"First point Ranma," an Elder announced and there was cheering from the assembled Amazons.

Ranma grinned a little, some of his confidence returning.

Maybe he could do this…

The prince struggled up to his feet, nursing what must have been a bruised rib, but managing to recover quickly.

"You've been with the Houzi tribe, in the north," Herb seemed surprised, if the raised eyebrow was anything to go by, "It takes years to learn that formation. And I've never seen it done so fast."

"Guess I'm just that good," Ranma taunted. The Houzi's fist technique was deadly. By hitting certain points in the body with just enough force, you could incapacitate your opponent, permanently disable them or even kill. The tribe, named for their odd propensity to keep monkeys as pets, made it their business to know everything there was about the human body. Also called the 'Light-Touch' tribe by some, they were small, peaceful and had been left so for fear of their abilities. Ranma's master, a rather short-tempered, middle-aged woman, had refused to teach the young martial artist at first. But time and persistence had won him a teacher. What resulted was perhaps not as perfect as the Houzi's technique, but had become an effective attack that was very difficult to stop. There were, of course, disadvantages. You had to be quick and you had to get close, _very_ close.

"Its different," Herb continued, looking thoughtful.

"Anything goes," Ranma shrugged, feeling charged.

It had been months since he had fought against someone around his age who could give him a challenge. Lately, Ranma had found himself against much older and experienced opponents, even when sparing in the tribe. Herb presented a challenge that almost made Ranma's blood sing with anticipation. If he didn't dislike the jerk so much, he might actually have tried to get him to teach him something.

 _I wonder if all the Musk are this strong_ , he had time to think, before he had to block another onslaught.

And it was an onslaught. Ranma's eyes widened in surprise, as the prince's attacks seemed to intensify, quickly putting the younger martial artist on the defensive.

The problem was, Herb started landing in some good hits after that. Even with the Breaking Point training and years spent building up Ranma's durability, it _hurt_.

Strike after strike, the prince assaulted Ranma with blows. The younger boy wasn't able to do more than defend himself and even that broke.

Herb forced his way through Ranma's defense, his fists striking Ranma's most vulnerable parts in quick succession. It was over quickly. Too quickly. He grabbed Ranma by the arm, throwing him to the ground in an explosion of dust.

"Second point Herb," a voice called, "Winner: Prince Herb of the Musk."

 _Lost._ He had lost. Ranma couldn't remember the last time he'd lost to anyone other than Cologne. His pride hurt more than his body, though that wasn't a picnic either.

It took everything Ranma had to get up.

He pushed himself up, getting shakily to his feet and realized something was wrong.

Herb had done something to his legs. They felt like jelly and it took everything Ranma had to keep from collapsing to the ground again. Pain flared through his shoulder. He tried to lift his arm, but it flopped uselessly at his side.

 _Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!_

The jerk had dislocated his shoulder!

Ranma looked up, his vision blurring a little and saw Herb turning towards the crowd. Towards Mei.

"No!" he cried and with Herculean effort, forced himself to move. He was in between the prince and his foster mother in seconds, one arm lifted in defense, his legs trembling. The prince hadn't moved, but was just staring at Ranma.

"And what do you expect to do?" he taunted the younger boy, "You're done. You can barely stand, let alone fight."

"You're not touchin' my family!" Ranma spat, "I'll kill ya first!"

Herb raised an elegant eyebrow and then threw back his head, erupting into laughter.

The air tensed, everyone waiting on bated breath for the prince to stop laughing. Ranma's legs finally gave out and Shampoo rushed to his side, holding the rest of his body up. His breathing was coming out heavily now, all he could think about was how he wasn't going to move. No matter what, he wasn't moving from this spot! He'd figure out a way to fight, he'd…

Ranma's thoughts trailed as golden eyes focused on him, intense and calculating. They shifted to the elders and then back to Ranma so quickly, the martial artist was sure he had imagined it.

A lazy, triumphant smile spread across that elegant face.

"I've won," he told the elders, "I'll choose my prize now."

Ranma felt sick. What was he going to ask for? Would he try to take one of the women away? _Mei, Shampoo…_ He gritted his teeth. _No!_ He wouldn't allow that! He'd fight to the death first. He got up shakily, shoving off his sister's hands as he tried to stand straight.

Herb's golden eyes swiveled to him and a feral, arrogant sort of smile curved his lips. The younger martial artist felt a strange chill run through him as those eyes locked hungrily onto him.

He pointed at Ranma.

" _I want him."_

 **~R1/2~**

A/N: Apologies for the delay. Nothing saps creativity like thesis writing, job hunting and family drama. I'll try to get the next chapter up soon as I can.

Thanks for reading!


	6. Last of An Empire

**Last of an Empire**

Ranma paced the tiled hallway impatiently, his feet tapping softly through the corridor. He'd gotten used to staring down at the chipped blue and gold patterns on the tiles, tracing the intricate motif with his eyes as he waited outside the throne room. It was the same thing every morning since his 'servitude' to the Musk Prince had begun. He would wait outside as Herb consulted with his father. About what, he only ever found out if necessary. There was a snort to his right, making Ranma still.

"All that pacing will give you a headache," Lime commented, leaning casually against one of the finely painted walls. A golden, mighty dragon glared at his back from its place on the wall. The paintings were all old and fading, but that dragon always remained vivid. Ranma shot his own irritable glare the tiger boy's ways. Maybe it was because of the other boy's feline ancestry, but Ranma and Lime had never really taken a liking to one another.

Lime hadn't been a fan of him joining their little goon squad from day one, and to be honest, neither had Ranma. But a deal was a deal and if there was anything the Amazon's stuck to, it was a bargain. Still, even they didn't bet _people_ , per say.

An old tradition amongst the warrior tribes was to bargain 'service.' If a warrior won a duel, he could request as his prize a year and a day of service from the loser. During this time, they're loyalty was to their opponent's tribe. They must fulfill all the terms of service in order to restore honour to their mother tribe once more.

Such measures had been created to prevent conflict amongst the tribes, though Ranma thought that might have less to do with honour and more the fact that the loser essentially became a hostage for the year.

He opened his mouth with a retort when someone jumped on his back, almost making him stumble forward to his knees.

" _Ooof!_ Mint! What do you think you're doing? Get off!" he snapped at the wolf boy who was now clinging to his back like some kind of monkey.

"I'm booored," Mint whined, adjusting himself more comfortably on Ranma's back, "How long is Herb gonna be anyway?"

"The bastard takes pleasure in keeping us waiting," Ranma grumbled, shifting his stance to compensate for the additional weight. He didn't remove the boy from his back though. It was sometimes easy to forget that Mint was a year older than him, but Ranma had quickly learned that was deceptive on his part.

It had been almost a year since the day Herb had come to his village. Almost a year since he had seen his family or his friends. There had been scattered messages every now and then, but he doubted anyone in the Amazon village knew exactly where he was. The Musk's kingdom was well hidden, buried deep in the forest covering the Byankala Mountains. The guards and scouts who patrolled the border did their work in keeping any unwanted visitors out. It was little wonder they'd managed to 'disappear' for so many centuries.

The Musk society was _very_ misogynistic. There were some women, but they made up maybe a tenth of the population, though Ranma thought even that might be too generous an estimation. He hadn't seen any girls his own age, the closest being the twenty-three year old wife of one of the King's guards. Any women he did see were always married and for the most part, kept to themselves. And they didn't train. Not at all. In fact, as far as Ranma could tell, the only women he had seen were either pregnant or nursing babies. It was all a severely strange contrast to the Amazons. He had been told that girls were very rarely born to the Musk, and women were usually taken from outside the tribe.

"The prince and the King will take as long as they like," Lime sneered, "You should both relax."

Ranma pursed his lips in annoyance, casting a look over his shoulder at Mint. The boy had a pout on his face, his wolf-eared cap sitting a little skew on his head.

"Whatever," Mint rolled his eyes at his childhood friend, sliding off Ranma's back.

Freed from his burden, Ranma was just contemplating returning to his pacing when the doors to the throne room were flung open and Herb stormed out, his golden eyes flashing with anger. Ranma's hackles were already raised the moment he spotted the prince.

His usual habit would be to demand answers from Herb. Answers to questions he'd been asking for almost a year.

But this time something in Herb's demeanor stopped him.

Ranma had only seen the infamous Dragon King of the Musk a handful of times. He looked like an older, more scarred version of Herb. His left eye had been wounded badly in his youth, causing him to wear an eye patch. On it he had painted a red eye that was set in a permanent scowl. He was not a large man, but intimidating all the same.

Even Ranma, for all his usual bravado, was hesitant to speak when in the man's presence, let alone contradict him.

Herb did it on a regular basis.

Their most recurrent argument regarded the fate of nine Musk warriors who went missing a year previously. It had also been the reason, Ranma had finally learned, for the Musk prince's visit to the village. A visit, he found out, that had been unauthorized by the King.

That had been Ranma's first introduction to Herb's father. When his son had returned to the palace, not only having exposed the Musk's continued existence to the world, but also dragging an outsider with him, the reaction hadn't been pretty. Mint had had to keep a hold of Ranma, even as his hands shook, when the King grasped his own son by the throat, yelling angrily. The battle aura filling the room had been stifling.

And Ranma thought Pops had been bad.

But Herb was never cowed by his father's brutal manner. He gave as good as he got, always holding his head high, as though challenging the older man. The King, instead of being angered, would then switch his mood like it was nothing, patting his son on the back and grinning proudly.

Ranma wasn't sure he wanted to understand the twisted logic there.

Still, whenever Herb left his father's presence, even after arguing, even if he was frustrated, there was a look of fierce determination on his face. As though he relished the challenge before him and was eager to try again.

Never had he looked so openly livid.

Lime was on alert to the prince's mood immediately. His eyes narrowed and he moved in close to step with Herb as he stormed through the hall. Ranma and Mint trailed behind.

When they had reached a significant distance from the throne room, Herb halted, turned to one of the finely painted walls and proceeded to slam his fist into the ancient stone. It cracked, denting under the blow that Ranma suspected had some ki behind it. A deafening silence followed as they waited for Herb to speak.

He let out a steaming breath through his nose and the anger slowly melted from his countenance, leaving behind the arrogant look of old. His golden eyes darted between his three bodyguards.

"I want to go to the training yards," he announced, as though nothing had happened.

"Hey, what about-? _Mmph_!" Ranma was cut off from what he was going to say by Mint clamping his hand over his mouth. Herb already had his back to them, striding through the halls without a backwards glance.

"It'll come when he's ready," the wolf boy shrugged, letting go of Ranma and gesturing for him to follow. Lime had time to give the outsider a superior look, before following too.

As much as Ranma disliked Lime, he genuinely had a soft spot for Mint. His arrival to the Musk hadn't exactly been welcoming. Not with the Dragon King looking ready to strangle him for existing and the general suspicion his presence stirred. But Mint had turned to Herb, a pout on his face as he grabbed Ranma.

" _Brother-in-law can come home with me!" he announced, eyes flashing mischievously._

" _Brother-in-law!?" Ranma had exclaimed, confused, "What-?"_

" _You sure you can handle the brat?" Herb interrupted, speaking directly to Mint. The wolf boy shot his prince a broad grin, already tugging Ranma in the opposite direction._

Mint's family could only be described as what they were. A pack of wolves. They were wild and unruly, with everyone in one another's business and a genuine sense of community. They might not have sniffed Ranma in greeting – _at least, he hoped they hadn't!_ – but they certainly did everything else.

By the end of his first night, he was a little roughed up, but his sides hurt from laughing and he had almost forgotten the reason he was there in the first place. They all ended up calling him 'brother-in-law,' following Mint's lead. The Musk boy had apparently developed a crush on Shampoo. Ranma didn't think he had a prayer, but wisely kept his mouth shut, too used to Mousse's tirades on the subject.

Luckily, Mint wasn't as serious about his suit as Mousse tended to be, which allowed Ranma to relax. The older boy was interested in girls in general and took every opportunity to question Ranma about them. His eventual disinterest with Shampoo didn't stop him or his family from calling Ranma 'brother-in-law' though.

It was thanks to Mint and his 'pack' that the rest of the Musk warmed up to Ranma. Mostly the members around his own age and sometimes a little older, who latched onto the fact that Ranma lived in a tribe, made up predominately of _women_.

He could almost stomach Lime, Mint, and the other Musk boys their age asking him if he'd ever seen a girl naked or touched a pair of breasts. It was actually hilarious sometimes. Especially when the high and mighty Herb stood nearby, pretending not to listen. Now, the Amazons weren't exactly _shy_ , but the way these Musk boys imagined them, you'd think they walked around the village _naked_.

It was from them that he slowly started to learn the place of women in the tribe. He learned about Jusenkyo and about the animals they had transformed into human women who became their wives. The wedding of animal and man, it was believed, had bred a race of warrior like none that had ever been seen before. The practice, of course, was long since abandoned. He learned that many of their mothers were warriors who had been interviewed and then wedded to their fathers long enough to give birth to a child. If the child was a boy, he stayed with his father. If a girl, the mother took her. The women that chose to remain in the tribe existed within their own community and lived separate lives from their sons.

A part, but not truly belonging.

Ranma could empathize.

Only once in the questioning had Ranma become angry, and this had been when Herb had come dangerously close to insulting Mei and the way she had raised him. He had been telling Herb about why he was being fostered with the Amazons. It was a rare moment of friendliness between them, though Ranma would rather swallow down one of Pink and Link's poisons than admit that. But of course, the pompous prince had had to go ruin it all. He didn't even remember what the jerk had said, but he remembered the shock of the conversation that followed.

" _Well, what about your mother?" Ranma had asked irritably, feeling his face burn hot as he glared at the prince._

" _I haven't seen her since I was a child," the Musk Prince said, as though he were announcing the time of day._

 _Ranma deflated a bit at that, a stab of pity shooting through him. He looked at Herb's frank expression and an uncomfortable feeling started in his chest._

" _Uh, sorry," he tried, shifting awkwardly._

" _Why?" Herb looked genuinely confused, "She fulfilled her role."_

" _But," Ranma frowned, "She's your mother."_

" _I don't understand your reasoning," Herb remarked, "I thought your father took you away from your mother to train you. Did he not do this to better prepare you for manhood?"_

 _Ranma opened his mouth to retort, then stopped._

" _I never said that's what happened," he said quietly, though his stomach clenched._

" _It's the logical conclusion, isn't it?" Herb raised an eyebrow, "It is much the same with our mothers. We only remain with them long enough to be weaned. Women would only be a distraction beyond that._

 _Ranma wanted to protest – not only about women being a distraction – but also about his parents. But the problem was, he could see it. Pops had always been going on about what it meant to be a man and Ranma was fairly certain his opinion of women was about the same as the Musks'. And he could see it, in his mind's eye; he could see the scene as it played out. His father taking him away from a faceless woman, declaring it was time for Ranma to become a 'man among men.' Maybe she tried to fight for him, or maybe she let him go, but he could see his father tearing him from her arms._

 _Ranma felt sick, not liking the image._

 _ **Who was she, Pops?**_ _He asked silently_ _ **, Is she even still alive? Why couldn't you have talked about her at least once?**_

 _He cut the conversation from there, not sure what do with these new thoughts._

It still troubled Ranma. He hadn't had a thought of who his mother might be in years. What kind of person she might be? Where she was? What she did? It was the sense of not knowing that troubled him. At least with Pops he had a face and a name, memories of the good and bad times. His mother was a mystery, and that bugged him.

Viewing his parents through the lens of the Musk gave him no relief.

As he followed Herb and the others out of the palace and into the training grounds, his eyes glazing over the jungle city of the Musk, his thoughts returned to that conversation yet again. The stone, pyramid like buildings that had been there for eons were all guarded by the likenesses of animals. Snakes, tigers, dragons, foxes…Ranma had seen them all. Many of the older buildings were dilapidated and crumbling, but it didn't take away from their presence. It was in those structures, the palace and the statues that one could see how powerful and long lived the Musk had once been.

Ranma had considered living with the Amazons as a fairly rural existence, but the Musk were something else. They dedicated their lives, their bodies, their whole existence to being warriors. Very few had anything in the way of modern technology. There was a reason, after all, they had remained hidden for so long. They were the last remnants of a bygone era of conquerors and warlords. From what Ranma had learned, the Dynasty had once stretched much further into China, but war and strife had driven them back to this mountain. They were all that remained of a once mighty nation.

Even in their dwindling, the Musk had bandied together, holding fast to their beliefs and traditions. Smaller now, but no less strong. They took pride in their history and in their isolation from the outside world. For Ranma, it was like stepping back four hundred years.

The training grounds were enormous, far larger than anything the Amazons had. Day in and day out, it was packed with men, young and old, perfecting their art. They took pride in the mixing of animals into their bloodlines, which for every clan remained pure. Little wonder, Ranma thought, as there was no chance of intermarriage between families since they always took their wives from _outside_ the tribe.

Their breeding with transformed animals had resulted in many variations of traits amongst the Musk. Lime, for instance, had a tiger ancestor and possessed the same strength as those great cats. For Mint it was the speed he inherited from his wolf blood, and for Herb, the power over ki that belonged to dragons.

Why anyone would want to marry a _dragon_ still irked Ranma somewhat.

Being the sticklers for tradition they were, it became increasingly clear why Herb had requested the year of servitude. Ranma bet the stupid dragon boy thought it a 'fitting' occupation for someone he deemed beneath him. But even that didn't answer _all_ his questions.

Ranma was still enraged by the situation. He hated he couldn't see his family for a year, he hated that he'd had to give his word to serve the prince and he especially hated that he'd had no say in the matter.

Except Ranma didn't just sit around, whining and complaining about his servitude to the prince. The Musk were clearly strong, maybe even stronger than the Amazons, though Ranma would never admit that aloud. He'd have been a fool not to take advantage. Maybe Cologne was rubbing off on him after all.

No one moved faster than the wolves. Ranma had had a hard time catching Mint when he first met him and in the months since had seen exactly what the other boy could do. The wolves had also been the first willing to teach him anything. As a result, while Ranma still couldn't quite match Mint's speed, he felt like he was close. But he was larger than the Musk boy and most of his relatives. Mint had a lithe build, whilst years of training had built hard muscles throughout Ranma's young body. Mint relied more on speed than strength for his attacks, where Ranma was forever working to develop both. He didn't know if that was what slowed him down, but it frustrated him to no end that he couldn't overcome the gap.

In comparison, he found training with Lime easier but ultimately less fulfilling. Brute strength didn't make up for lack of finesse and in the end he found he didn't have much to learn.

Trying to drag the secret of working with _ki_ from Herb had been painful. Cologne had already gone over the theory with Ranma, but had deemed him too young to attempt a technique himself. Molding _ki_ could be dangerous, she had cautioned him, and was not to be approached lightly.

And Ranma really would have heeded her warning.

If he didn't have a _dragon_ in front of him.

Even if that dragon was just about making him beg to be taught.

But given the mood the Musk prince was currently in, Ranma didn't think he'd be trying his luck today.

As the training started, Herb became brutal. He hammered into every sparring partner he faced, sending more than one limping away. Even Lime, whose impressive strength and hard headedness could usually take a few rounds with Herb, was sent sprawling. Mint and Ranma sat back, watching in apt interest.

"Doesn't he ever tire himself out?" Ranma asked, torn between being jealous and impressed.

"Of course he does," the wolf boy said, "He just uh…forgets to worry about it."

"Not making me feel any better Mint," Ranma grumbled.

"He does have a few years on you, brother-in-law," Mint sounded amused, "What are you? Fourteen now?"

The Amazon shot him a scathing look.

"How is it you can switch from acting like an absolute brat to sounding like some old fart? And stop calling me that!"

Mint shrugged.

"Talent, I guess," he announced smugly, then winced in sympathy as Herb took down another opponent, "So, are you going next, or am I?"

"Scared?"

"I'd be a fool not to be," Mint said unrepentantly, getting to his feet and stretching, "Ah well, I guess it's been a while since _anyone's_ landed a hit on me."

He shot Ranma a pointed look. The younger boy scowled, aiming a kick at him, which Mint deftly avoided.

"Still too slow, brother-in-law!" the wolf boy laughed, walking towards the ring.

"I hope he pummels you!" Ranma yelled after him.

 **~R1/2~**

Akane was struggling a little with her leotard. The tightness on her skin always felt foreign when compared to the usual looseness of her gi. She stretched experimentally, easing into the feel of the suit.

Digging out a hair elastic from her gym bag, she scooped her shoulder length hair back, securing it in a short ponytail. Her fringe was a little long, so she had to scramble for a hair clip to hold it back before dashing out of the changing rooms.

The gym was a lot bigger than the one at her school and never failed to impress her a little. When she had first become interested in Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics, she had been disappointed to realize her own middle school didn't offer the activity. Luckily, one of the teachers at her school was a friend of the gymnastics coach at St. Hebereke's School for Girls, who sometimes accepted non-students to join their practice. Not all the gymnasts practiced the martial arts form of the activity, but there were enough to form a team and they were always happy for new members.

Well…most of them were.

"You're late, Tendo," an unfortunately familiar and haughty voice announced, "Even the untalented rabble is expected to keep good time."

Akane bit her lip to keep from retorting. Kodachi Kuno had been doing Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics longer than she had and liked to remind Akane of the fact every chance she could get. She seemed to have made it her mission in life, especially after winning a match.

Akane, on the other hand, had beaten Kodachi just as many times as she'd lost, but felt no need to advertise the fact. It would just make the heiress more unmanageable.

The dark haired girl was sitting on a balance bar, holding a ribbon like it was her scepter. The other girls kept their distance, casting wary glances between Akane and the self-proclaimed queen of St. Hebereke. It was the usual ritual, this show of dominance.

"Kuno," Akane greeted in a cheerful manner, before turning to the other girls and pointedly paying more attention to them. It took all of ten seconds for Kodachi to start fuming. It took another two for her to decide to throw something.

Dodging several pieces of gymnastics equipment and batting away an attack from the ribbon, Akane sighed tiredly from her position on one of the bars, facing Kodachi.

She'd very much like to start one practice without getting into a fight, but as it was, Akane readied the batons in her hands.

For all that she didn't like Kodachi as a person, it was difficult not to respect her as a martial artist. The Kuno heiress had a natural agility that proved deadly when coupled with rhythmic gymnastics and trained harder in the activity than anyone Akane had ever seen. She was always in the gym before anyone else and was always the last to leave too. She had never lost a competition and took immense pride in that.

 _Maybe too much pride_ , the thought crossed Akane's mind as she deflected an attack and leapt onto the next balancing beam, her bare feet finding their grip with practiced grace.

She was pretty proud of herself as well. A year ago, Akane had struggled to maintain her balance on the beams, let alone use the equipment to attack and defend. Still, even after a year, her left leg wobbled a little with indecision, before she forced it into a more secure stance on the beam. The smooth wood beneath her feet let her adjust easily, but had the added precarious nature of making her think she'd slip off.

The fight was almost routine, each girl trying to get one up on the other. Sometimes Kodachi came out as victor, sometimes it was Akane. And sometimes…

"Tendo! Kuno! What have I told you two about fighting out of class time?" barked the coach as she came striding into the gym.

Akane and Kodachi dropped to the floor immediately.

"That's better," the coach said gruffly, "Alright ladies! Everyone in position for warm up, we've got a lot of work to do today!"

She cast Akane and Kodachi a look, then smiled sadistically.

"Tendo, Kuno, I want you two to partner up today."

There were groans all round. Akane bit back one herself, her eyes darting over to Kodachi. The heiress didn't look anymore pleased than she did and for good reason. From previous experience, things tended to get a bit… _chaotic_ when Akane and Kodachi had to work together.

 _Maybe it'll be okay this time_ , she tried to reassure herself.

Kodachi shot her a glare.

Needless to say, her optimism was short lived.

 **~R1/2~**

Ranma shook his head at Mint as the older boy hobbled back to his seat. His clothes were rumpled and a little torn and he was sporting a split lip.

"So much for speed," the Amazon sang.

"Oh shut up," Mint rolled his eyes tiredly, "Your turn."

Ranma griped for a second, then got to his feet, wondering when he had turned into some royal's punching bag.

It irked him all the more that Herb looked like he hadn't even broken a sweat. The barely suppressed rage in the prince's face made Ranma hesitate for a second. He had never actually beaten Herb before, but there were a few times he had come close. When Herb focused on a fight, he was nearly unstoppable. So it was a good thing he was easily distracted.

So Ranma plastered a cocky grin on his face and looked straight at him.

"So ya never did tell me," he said, blood pumping with anticipation, "What's it like to have _never_ kissed a girl?"

Herb's eyebrow ticked.

It only took a few more jabs at Herb's inexperience with the opposite sex to send the prince into an irritated rage. He struck at Ranma, but his moves were disjointed and unfocused, missing his target completely. As Ranma leapt out of the way, a game plan was already forming in his head. Herb could made mistakes. He just had to _keep_ making mistakes.

It wasn't easy, and eventually Herb started to realize what he was doing, so Ranma had to dig a bit deeper.

"What's got you so mad anyway? _Daddy_ say you couldn't have a new toy?"

Ranma hadn't been expecting that to set him off quite so much.

He bit back a strangled yelp when Herb was very suddenly in his face, golden eyes livid. Ranma took the strike to his head, hitting the ground and rolling back into a ready position. _Bingo_.

He let out another taunt and this time was ready for the Musk Prince's attack. Herb came in with a punch to his head, but the move was so obvious this time that Ranma had the chance to block it. He twisted his arm, gripping Herb's and moved in behind him. His other arm traveled under Herb's free one and his legs moved to grip him around his thighs. There he held the prince in place, his hands coming up to interlock behind Herb's head. It was a trick one of the snake descendants had recently taught him.

Herb lost his balance, falling forward face first to the ground. Ranma held firm, even as he tried to muscle his way out. No way he'd ever be able to do this to someone like Lime, but on Herb it just might work.

"Unhand me!" he cried, fighting against the hold.

"No way! You've bloodied up all your friends pretty nicely today, its time to calm down!"

Herb suddenly stilled, twisting his head to the sidelines of the ring where Mint, Lime and a group of boys sat. Anyone who had decided to test his rage had remained behind, watching him worriedly.

He relaxed.

"I understand," he said quietly and Ranma let him go.

Mint and Lime, followed by some of the other spectators, were rushing to his side in an instant, helping both boys to their feet. Lime shot Ranma a resentful glare, but didn't say anything.

A tribe of men, that's what Ranma had been thrown into. A tribe of men who settled things with their fists and never apologized for it, but more than that, were a tribe of brothers. They talked about girls and fighting and laughed at each other's follies and defeats. They were rough, brutish and more than a little wild.

And despite himself, Ranma kind of loved it.

The thought came back again. The thoughts of his mother and the way his father had been raising him. To be the best. To be a man among men.

He looked around at the Musk warriors surrounding him. He saw how Mint gave Herb a playful punch on the shoulder, he heard a teasing remark from someone in the crowd. He saw a hesitant smile make its way onto Herb's face as some of the anger melted away. He thought of everyone he'd met here. He was amongst men.

 _Could they teach him what that meant?_

He looked up at the sky for a moment, thinking.

"What do you think it means to be a 'man among men?'" Ranma mused softly before he could stop himself.

The other boys had moved off, now too far for any of them to hear, but it was only when Herb spoke that Ranma realized he had lagged behind to wait for the younger boy. How unlike him.

"Power," he said, "Having the strength and the power to make things happen. To not be beholden unto anyone."

Ranma blinked, having not expected the prince to answer. He nodded his head, but inside his heart sank a little. _Was that it?_

He watched the prince as he left too and ran a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling very tired. It was only later that he found out what had set Herb off that morning.

Mint had dragged him off to get something to eat and finally relented.

"The king doesn't want Herb wasting anymore resources trying to find the missing warriors," he explained, munching down a piece of pork, "He's been impatient ever since we dragged you home."

"Its not my fault he asked for… _this!_ Whatever the hell this is supposed to be?!" Ranma protested.

"That's not what it was about," Mint sighed, "Herb will change the Musk, you know. I really believe that. He'll make us great again and I think you're part of that."

Ranma was confused.

"What do you mean?" he asked incredulously.

"Never mind," Mint laughed, patting his head as though he were a child, "You're too young to understand."

"Old fart," Ranma quipped, earning himself a playful smack.

"Back on point. One of the missing warriors," Mint explained, "Basil, he's Herb's cousin. Also a dragon descendant. He's a few years older, but he and Herb were pretty close as kids. We all were."

"He's your friend," Ranma surmised.

Mint nodded.

"We have to find out what happened to him," the wolf boy said firmly, "We have to!"

"I get that, but why did he make a big fuss going to the Amazons about it?" Ranma asked.

Mint shrugged.

"That I'm not sure about," he admitted, "But I'm sure he had a good reason."

"Like dragging me across half of China," Ranma snorted.

Mint opened his mouth, then stopped, looking thoughtful. Ranma glared.

"Oh come on!" he snapped.

"I don't know," Mint scratched his head, "We heard a lot about you, even before we met you. _The Amazon Foundling._ The child being fostered by the Amazons, but being sent out for training everywhere else. There are stories about you, ya know."

"Stories?" Ranma paled, "What kind of stories?"

Mint just grinned.

"If you're talking about that chick with the elephant," Ranma started, only to be cut off.

"I wasn't," Mint sang, "But you should!"

Ranma groaned, burying his head in his hands.

"She was convinced she was meant to marry some prince from somewhere," Ranma really didn't want to talk about it. Lychee had made his life hell for three weeks because she was convinced Ranma knew where Happosai was and had stalked him cross-country on her elephant Jasmine. It was the third time he'd met someone the Anything Goes Grandmaster had wronged. It had taken that long, various attempts at explanation and masses of destruction through several villages to convince her to leave him alone. Cologne had not been happy.

"Oh?" Mint leaned closer, eager to hear more.

Ranma shook his head.

"Never mind," he groaned, "It was annoying!"

Mint was laughing at him.

"Maybe that's why he _dragged_ you here," he said with mirth, "You're never dull, brother-in-law!"

"I told you not to call me that!"

 **~R1/2~**

Akane bit back a groan of pain as she felt the muscles in her legs being stretched to their limit. They were seated on the wooden floor of the gym, Kodachi holding her arms, pulling her forward to make her form a split and Akane was determined not to cry out.

It was a stubbornness game for them.

It was why pairing the two together had become a bad idea. Everything became a competition. Every stretch, every toss of a club or snap of the ribbon. Akane knew better, she really did.

It was just hard to walk away.

When the martial arts part of the practice started, they struck each other just a little harder, moved just a little faster. The coach broke them up multiple times, but there was an odd smile on her face when she did. Akane was hardly surprised.

The coach had been dropping hints all over the place that she wanted Akane to join the high school team in a couple of years and compete for St. Hebereke. There was no way, of course, that the Tendos could afford the tuition. There was a sports scholarship, but Akane wasn't sure yet whether to go for it. It didn't matter right now; she still had another year or so to think about it.

When she had started Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics, she hadn't expected to like it so much. It had just been something she was trying out after listening to some advice from her father and Auntie Nodoka.

Soun had told her that Anything Goes was about being creative, about finding new ways to improve their art and trying anything at least once.

Nodoka had explained her observation about how the best martial artists applied the art to every aspect of their life.

So Akane had started looking outside the normal martial arts practices. With her father running the dojo again and taking the time to train her, she was determined to become a worthy heir to the school. To not only improve on the Tendo branch of the school, but develop her _own_ style and techniques.

It excited her. This freedom to explore and learn for herself. Five years ago when her family seemed trapped in so much grief and loss, she couldn't imagine ever being supported like she was today. Today she didn't have to fight to convince her father she was worthy to be trained. Today she was deemed responsible enough to make her own choices, to help train younger years in the dojo and to develop herself as a martial artist.

It was everything she had wanted and she relished it.

And she _liked_ Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics.

Not even Kuno could spoil this for her.

Akane practiced a backwards flip on the bar, but missed her footing and fell off. As she hit the mat, she let out a groan of frustration, getting up to try again.

"It's your balance again, Akane," the coach pointed out, "You really need to work on it more."

Akane flushed with embarrassment, nodding vigorously.

" _Ho ho ho_! Clumsy peasant," she heard Kodachi giggle, which only served to make her face heat more.

"And you need to tighten your form, Kodachi," the coach announced in a loud voice, "You still end up going all over the place when you land."

Now it was the heiress' turn to flush.

It carried on like that, the coach barking orders as she observed each girl working through her routine. Kodachi also watched, her lips pursing. Akane wondered what was going on in her head.

When practice ended, the coach gathered them round to discuss the next gymnastics meet. Their time was divided between two kinds of competition; normal rhythmic gymnastics meets and martial arts matches. At present, only Akane, Kodachi and three other girls competed in the martial arts portions. Akane was the only one who didn't compete in the regular competitions, as it was the fighting side of the sport that interested her the most.

After times and practice schedules were given, the girls all retreated to the changing rooms. Akane chatted excitedly with a couple of the girls, glad for the distraction from the glaring heiress. It was inside the rooms that the trouble started.

She didn't realize there was a commotion at first, not until she heard whimpers and shrieks from the other end of the changing room. There was Kodachi, ribbon poised to strike and hissing angrily at a pair of girls.

"-embarrassing performances!" she was snapping, "You'll do better or-"

She had just snapped the ribbon at them again when Akane jumped to action, putting herself into a protective position between Kodachi and the two girls.

"Kodachi! Stop it!" she growled, winding the ribbon she had caught in her fist and giving it a firm tug. Kodachi, instead of letting it get pulled from her grasp, pulled back. For a few minutes it hung taught between them, neither martial artist willing to relinquish her grip. Then there was a tearing sound as the ribbon gave way, parting in the middle as it split apart.

"Gah!" Kodachi exclaimed, stumbling back a step to regain her balance, "How dare you!"

"I could say the same thing!" Akane hissed back, "This isn't how you treat your teammates!"

"You're an outsider!" the heiress retorted, "Go back to where you came from!"

Akane didn't react to the jibe, though it irked her how this girl chose to treat people. She had never liked Kodachi's attitude and had the feeling the heiress despised her for the simple reason she stood up for herself.

"Grow up!" she snarled right back and in an instant had to defend herself again. Kodachi was on her in moments, scratching at her face.

But Akane was trained in more than just one style of fighting and, unlike the Kuno heiress, didn't have to rely on it. She wrestled Kodachi into a hold, bending her arm behind her.

"I said stop it!" she growled.

The coach chose that moment to enter the changing room and told them both they'd be benched if they carried on with such behavior. Kodachi was livid, stalking away without a word and still dressed in her leotard. Akane and the others watched her go, no one saying anything.

"That girl will give me grey hairs," the coach muttered, exiting the room herself.

"Thanks Akane," one of Kodachi's victims muttered, hurrying to collect her things.

Akane just sighed and finished changing. She picked up her gym bag; scooping up the skates she'd need for practice later. She then took a drink from her water bottle as she exited the changing rooms, waving goodbye to her teammates.

She was nearing the entrance to the school when she caught sight of Kodachi again. She was holding a cell phone to her ear and arguing furiously with whoever the caller on the other side was. Akane rolled her eyes at the sight of the contraption; of course she could afford a cell phone. As she drew closer, she picked up the end of the conversation.

"No! I won't accept it!" Kodachi hissed into the receiver, "You come home or else I-"

She stopped abruptly, pulling the phone from her ear. Livid with rage, she threw it to the ground, stomping on it with all her might until the metal cracked. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and her face was purple with rage.

The she seemed to notice Akane's presence and froze.

The blue haired girl swallowed hard, taking a cautious step towards the heiress.

"Kodachi?" Akane asked carefully, "Is everything okay?"

It took a few seconds, but Kodachi picked herself up and was back to her normal self again. She shot Akane a haughty glare.

"Nothing of your concern!" she hissed, "The Black Rose of St. Hebereke has more important matters to attend to!"

With that, she turned and walked away, head held high. Akane watched her go, wondering if she should follow. She knew from what some of the other girls said that Kodachi's father had been 'away' for some time. She wondered if the angry phone call she had heard had something to do with that.

Then her mind caught up with what Kodachi had said.

"Black…Rose?" Akane shook her head and walked in the opposite direction.

Some things just weren't worth the trouble.

 **~R1/2~**

A/N: Many thanks for the truly wonderful reviews! You've kept the writing bug going!

To make up for concerning so many people over the end of the last chapter, I allowed Akane to somersault her way into this one. But I am curious, how many of you thought I was going to let Herb chuck poor Ranma into Jusenkyo, for rather nefarious reasons I might add? Or something along those lines anyway.

My own amusement aside, from this point I will be branching into a wider area of AU, particularly into the supernatural. So next chapter will have witches and zombies. And that's all I'm saying about that.

I am trying to power my way through Ranma's early years, but there are just some things that have to happen before he and Akane meet. And the Musk thing is pretty important. As to Akane, I will be dedicating at least half a chapter to 'her life so far,' so this little peeks all you're getting till then.

Thanks for reading!


	7. Hopping Mad

**Hopping Mad**

The old pine tree had stood there a very long time.

The trail of her robes slithered through the tall grass as she climbed the hill up to the tree. She leaned heavily on a bamboo staff and the feathers on her sleeves glinted in the early morning light with their brightly coloured plumage.

The tree stood alone on a high, rocky hill in the centre of a valley surrounded by a stretching mountain range. It was a twisting, giant thing. Its trunk was thick, stemming out in many directions, each curving and knotting around each other. In the hazy heat of summer, it should have been green with life.

But it was a stricken, aging creature. As she approached she could smell the rot and decay encroaching on it. She stopped when she was a step away and placed a hand on the pale bark.

It was dying.

She'd expected as much.

The woman, who stood there, hand on the ancient tree, was neither young nor old. Her hair was white and silky, drawn back into an elegant bun secured by a headdress of peach blossoms and crow's feet dug around a pair of deep-set eyes, but her cheeks were smooth.

She sighed, walking around to inspect the tree and found what she was looking for. Someone had been digging beneath the roots, disturbing the artifact that had rested there for thousands of years. But the thief had been there years gone, beginning the ancient guardian's slow decay. She hadn't noticed before now.

"Having too much fun with the mortal," she scolded herself lightly and laid her hand on the tree again. It was much too late to save the poor thing now.

"You did your work well," she assured the tree, "Now lets hope _her_ promise holds."

She pondered what to do now. A smile suddenly lit her visage, exposing a row of sharp, carnivorous teeth. There was a flutter of wings and she looked up to see a large bird with red and gold plumage land there, staring at her patiently.

"I think I shall meet him after all," she said to it, "You know what to do."

The bird spread its wings and took off, soaring towards the mountains. The woman watched it go and almost instantaneously, vanished from sight, leaving nothing but the rotting tree behind her. No sound permeated through valley, save for the echoing of a single, sharp voice.

" _Here kitty, kitty."_

 **~R1/2~**

It had been a week since the incident Ranma liked to affectionately call 'the pompous prince's temper tantrum.' Relations between the two boys had only continued to deteriorate from there. Ranma, in his own stubborn way, continued to pester the young prince about his 'servitude.' And Herb, in his _equally_ stubborn way, continued to ignore him. The true tipping point had come though when Herb commanded Ranma _dispose_ of an intruder who had stumbled accidentally into the old city.

To be fair, it was really the Dragon King who had ordered it, but either way it had Ranma seeing red. He had argued and fought against it, but ultimately Herb had called him out on the oath he had given to the Musk upon entering into his 'servitude.'

If there was one thing Ranma hated more than anything, it was feeling trapped, but he wouldn't go back on his word either.

He debated with himself as he dragged the poor man through the village, out into the dense jungle and to the border of the Musk territory. There a river divided the land, marking the end of the Musk Dynasty. Although he knew what 'dispose' of really meant, Ranma could not make himself follow through. Instead he yelled harshly at the man, threatening him with death if he ever so much as looked in the direction of the Musk again. He lied and told him they had spies all over China and that if he ever told anyone where they were, he'd be as good as dead.

He laid it on thick, making his aura flare threateningly. He even punched the ground just beside the man's head as he bore over him, cracking a large river stone that lay there. He listened to the man, whining and begging, promising his silence and then let him go.

He watched the man wade across the river, which from this point only reached waist height, and then scramble onto the bank at the other side. He didn't look back as he tore through the trees and disappeared from sight.

Ranma sagged, feeling oddly exhausted.

He was suddenly hit with the impulse to follow the escaping man and run away entirely. Already he felt sick about returning, just waiting for what they'd _order_ him to do next. He was surprised no one had followed to see he completed the deed, as it were, but didn't think anything of it in that moment.

Instead, as he thought of running away, he also thought of his father.

Funny enough, he knew what Pops would suggest.

 _The Saotome Secret Technique!_ He could hear his father's voice declare in his head.

 _But isn't that just running away?_ He could remember his confused reply.

 _Running away? What an insult! Ranma, my boy, what you have to realize is sometimes you'll be in a situation you're going to lose. A Saotome never admits defeat, thus the best thing is to get away until you can come up with something better!_

He felt a laugh escape him, despite himself. That would be just like Pops, to turn _running away_ into a strategy.

 _Anything goes, after all._

But Ranma was beginning to think he wasn't as true an Anything Goes martial artist as his father had been.

He'd judged Pops for his cowardice, but oddly, he didn't hate him for it. Not anymore. Instead, he was coming to realize that the old man had taught him something perhaps a little unintended.

Respect could be earned, honour could be restored, but nothing could be done if you were dead.

He took his time walking back, his head full of one uncomfortable realization. He _hated_ feeling trapped, especially trapped by laws and traditions that said obstacles were for killing and that the sanctity of the tribe must be maintained above everything else. Where was the _mercy_ for the man who had stumbled somewhere he shouldn't and the woman whose only crime was winning a fight?

It was the day Ranma realized that he couldn't stay in China forever.

He avoided speaking to Herb after that and it wasn't until the messenger arrived, that things started to change.

 **~R1/2~**

"Mount Mogan?" Ranma frowned, trying to recall why that name was so familiar, "You mean like the story? The one where everyone gets their heads lopped off?"

The messenger had arrived at the palace late one night, looking ragged but determined. He and Herb were in private audience for over an hour before the prince strode out and declared Basil was on Mount Mogan. Of course, that meant the four of them would be departing immediately to investigate.

Ranma supposed the _immediately_ part was more to do with avoiding asking the king for permission than anything else.

"Or you could say the tourist area close to Hangzhou," Mint laughed, shouldering a pack as they made their way down the mountainside, "I wonder what Basil's doing there?"

"Probably been goofing off all year, making the rest of us worried sick," Lime grumbled, "Shacked up with some girl and forgot to come home."

"Yes, like the story," was Herb's cool reply to the conversation, stilling all three, "Don't get complacent."

It took a train ride and a couple days walking to reach the mountain range. Ranma had never been anywhere near Mount Mogan and had to admit feeling oddly excited about the journey. As they came nearer, he saw the mountains, big and blue in the hazy light of late afternoon and could already see why it was such a popular holiday escape. Mount Mogan was almost completely covered by a bamboo forest and in the lower lying valleys featured shining blue lakes surrounded by grand holiday homes.

They stopped off at an inn at the base of the mountain for the night.

They huddled together in one of the rooms. Mint cracked jokes with Lime, while Herb stared determinedly out one of the windows. Ranma slumped down on a sleeping mat and tried to get comfortable.

In the morning there was a harsh knocking on the door. Herb answered before anyone really registered, still climbing up from the vestiges of sleep. There was a narrow man at the door, dressed in a very bright red outfit. He spoke quickly and quietly to Herb, who spared a glance for his companions, before stepping out into the hall and shutting the door on them.

"Whose that?" Ranma yawned, working a crick out of his neck.

"The man who saw Basil, I guess," Lime responded, already gathering his things.

"Odd looking fellow," Mint put in, "Smells kinda like chicken."

Ranma and Lime both turned incredulous stares on the wolf boy, but it seemed like he was still half asleep. One of his hands was scrounging around for his wolf cap, but his eyes were half closed and there was a trail of drool rolling down his chin.

Herb returned a few minutes later and they were ushered out into the early morning light. The manager at the inn provided them with breakfast, a mixture of dried fruits and nuts. Lime grabbed a whole bagful of jujube berries and snacked on them through out the day, spitting out the pits as they made their way up the mountain trail.

"Stop that, will ya!" Ranma hissed, when one of Lime's projectiles hit the back of his head for the third time.

Lime's tiger-eyes, with the slit pupils that always gave Ranma the creeps, seemed to smirk at him. The implied 'make me' was blatant.

So Ranma responded in kind.

It took an irritable Herb striking them both on the head to split the two up once they started rough housing. Ranma shot the tiger boy a glare behind the prince's back. Lime spat another pit at him.

"I don't even know how ya can eat those things," Ranma snarled, having never developed a taste for the Chinese fruit.

"Shows you have no taste," Lime responded.

Needless to say, Herb was not pleased he had to keep stopping to break the two up.

Herb never actually spoke about what the red man had told him. Instead, a grim look of determination set itself on his face and he took the lead right up towards one of the mountain peaks. Ranma was beginning to wonder why the prince was being so serious. Everything was so peaceful. They passed through a village and there was nothing there except smiling people trying to sell them something. Ranma even had time to buy Shampoo a souvenir and Mint was slurping on a green ice tea.

"This is the best mission we've ever been on!" he laughed, his gaze following the tread of a rather pretty girl in one of the stalls, "Hey, I'll just-"

Ranma had him by the collar before he could finish his sentence.

"We went over this, remember?" he growled, "Girls don't like it when ya try draggin' em all over the place."

"I was going to do no such thing!" Mint exclaimed, affronted.

"Sure ya weren't," Ranma snorted disbelievingly, glaring at the leering Lime, "That goes for ya too, tiger boy!"

Too late, he was off.

"Lime, ya stupid jerk! Get back here!" Ranma yelled, releasing his hold on Mint as he darted after the other boy. But of course, the moment he let go of Mint, wolf boy had disappeared into the crowd.

"Ah come on!" he groaned and sent a glare Herb's way, "Aren't ya gonna help?"

The prince looked surprised by the question and that's when Ranma realized he's been staring at some girl too. He smacked a hand to his face.

"Just stay outta trouble while I deal with 'em, will ya?" he groaned.

Not waiting for a response, Ranma charged after the two Musk boys. What followed was chaos. It resulted in a mad chase around the market place, girls screaming and angry villagers trying to catch them. Herb briefly got into the fray, but was no help at all as _cleavage_ quickly distracted him. Ranma wished for the cool, focused prince who had come to the Amazon Tribe a year before, not this horny teenager. Feathers flew, fruit scattered over the ground, words were exchange, apologies given and then the four hightailed out of there as quickly as they could.

Mint and Lime were laughing. Even Herb had broken his serious contemplation to give a small, amused smile. Ranma shook his head, sighed, but found himself grinning along with them. Well, he couldn't claim it was a boring trip that was for certain.

Unheard by the departing boys, a pair of villagers stood, watching them leave. A young woman asked with concern;

"Shouldn't someone warn them not to go up that way?"

The older woman beside her snorted as she bent to scoop up the remains of her wares.

"That nutty priest will find them, I'm sure. Personally, I hope they're sucked dry," she announced and turned away, leaving the quartet of troublemakers to their fate in the peaks of Mount Mogan.

 **~R1/2~**

As they followed the mountain trail, it was starting to get dark. But not just the setting of the sun, it was like the light was being sucked away, slowly but surely. The vibrant colours of the forest seemed to dull and lose their luster. Every step deeper into the forest made everything seem greyer. Before they knew what was happening, the small group found itself in an area deep, dark and filled with a strange mist.

In other words, it was like the beginning of a horror movie.

Ranma tried to laugh at that realization, but couldn't quite prevent the chill that crept its way up his spine. Like a pair of icy fingers trailing down his skin. He shivered, suddenly very cold.

Maybe it was just because they were going higher, he told himself, higher into the mountain.

Eventually, he got fed up with bamboo. The thin trunks reached high, obscuring the sky with millions of thick, green leaves. The air was fresh, but cold, _very cold_.

It was only when Ranma started seeing his own breath expel from his mouth in cloudy white plumes that he realized how much.

 _What? No! That can't be right!_

Mint was the first to complain.

"Did someone turn down the heat?" he grumbled, "Seriously! Its the middle of summer!"

Lime made some comment about warriors not feeling the cold. Mint stuck his tongue out at him impetuously.

"So much for a vacation," he sighed.

"Who said anything about a vacation?" Lime snapped at his childhood friend.

"Its Mount Mogan!" Mint started to protest, but was cut off when Herb turned on them.

"Quiet!" he snarled, "I'm trying to listen!"

And that's when it happened.

There was a humming sound, like something cutting through the trees. The wind picked up, a cold wall of air slamming into them without warning. It _screamed_. The hairs on the back of Ranma's neck stood on end and he tensed. There was something dangerous out there and it was headed right for them.

Herb came to the conclusion first.

"Run!" he yelled and off they went, tearing through the bamboo trees and away from the oncoming danger. But they weren't fast enough.

Something came out at them from the trees, almost slamming into Lime. The tiger snapped back, leaping onto one of the bamboo branches and the figure went hurtling into the dirt. Everything stilled all at once. The figure wasn't moving.

"Who is that?" Mint asked, and Ranma looked again he realized it was definitely human shaped.

It raised itself from the ground slowly, turning as it did. Ranma gave a start.

It was female, he thought, with greenish-white skin that hung off its body like it was molting. The nails on its hands were black and long. It gave a snarl, exposing a set of razor sharp, yellowing teeth. It had long, scraggly red hair that ran to its waist.

Ranma paled. He knew that face. It was the face that grinned triumphantly in his worst dreams, holding up the severed head of a black haired woman. And sometimes, just sometimes, held Ranma's own head up as the Amazons cheered around her. But no! How could it be her? But that face…that face…

" _Nuan_?" he whispered.

The woman, or creature, for it hardly looked human, whipped its head in Ranma's direction. Arms stretched out before it, it turned and…

 _Hopped?_

Ranma didn't have time to even think about the fact that there was a corpse-thing _hopping_ towards him. No, because it wasn't just hopping, it was coming in fast. Its teeth were bared and it hissed hungrily at him.

Ranma moved into a defensive position. It was approaching him much too fast for him to get out of the way in time. It was this alone that told him this wasn't really Nuan. He had seen the older woman fight, and although she was as strong as a bull, her speed was sorely lacking. It was why she had been knocked out of her position as village champion, yet again, three years ago. After that, she had taken to traveling and Ranma hadn't seen her since.

The monster roared towards him, it's hopping not deterring its speed in the slightest.

Ranma took his shot when it got close, slamming his fist hard into its face. There was a sickening crack as its head whipped around completely.

Ranma gasped, scrambling away, not sure of what he'd done. Had he killed the thing? Just with that? He'd never punched anyone hard enough to dislodge their head before! The sight was sickening.

The skin on the monster's neck broke, but it didn't bleed. Instead, a kind of oozing, brown substance could be seen, like its blood had been turned to pudding. It swayed for a moment, raising its hands to grab its head. Slowly, everything creaking into place, it set its own head back on straight.

"Ranma! Get out of there!" Herb ordered, just as the monster began snarling again.

But no sooner had he spoke then there was another crashing through the trees and three more of the creatures appeared, hopping in like the ground was a trampoline. Soon, each of the boys found themselves facing a monster all their own. Ranma heard gasps from the others.

"Sage!" he heard Mint cry, "Sage! Is that you?"

So he wasn't the only one who recognized the face of someone they knew.

"What are these things?" Lime yelled, narrowly avoiding a strike from those long, black fingernails.

But no one seemed to know. Ranma thought there was something familiar about this, something that tugged on his memory, but he couldn't make the connection. The monster charged at him again, chomping its teeth.

 _Vampire?_ Ranma thought, _but not like any I've ever heard about. They look like they're rotting corpses._

"Jiangshi," Herb said suddenly, "They're jiangshi!"

"Jiangshi?" Ranma blinked, and it clicked, "Like hop around trying to suck your ki out jiangshi?"

Jiangshi haunted fireside tales and bad kung fu horror movies. Some of the older Amazons would equate misfortunes to the presence of the supernatural creatures. Ranma though, was more familiar with their appearance in the latter medium.

There was large town, two hours away by train ride from the village. Ranma used to take it there with Shampoo sometimes. They'd usually go to see a movie or explore the sights and shopping markets. It was good for a day out. The last time they'd gone, Ranma had dragged his sister into a horror movie. It was kind of corny and had Shampoo rolling her eyes rather than quaking in her seat. There'd been these things, weird zombie-vampire crosses that hopped around because they couldn't move properly.

Back then Ranma had mocked the main characters for their inability to dodge such clumsy creatures.

He regretted judging them now.

These jianshi might be stiff, but they could move and seemed to always know where their prey was.

"Remember anything about jiangshi?" Ranma called frantically as he managed to dodge another one of the creatures. He snapped off one of the bamboo trunks, using it like a staff to fend off attacks.

"Nothing helpful!" Mint yelled back, leaping out of the way of his opponent.

"Mirrors!" Herb said quickly, "They're scared of their own reflections!"

"Well who wouldn't be?" Lime grunted, swinging a branch into a jiangshi's head, only for it to start snarling at him as the splinters fell to the ground.

"Anyone got a mirror?" Ranma asked.

Silence.

"Great," the Amazon tried to think, "Uh…wasn't there something about peach wood?"

"We're surrounded by bamboo!" Lime snarled, defending against a series of swipes, "Where are we supposed to find peach wood?"

"Then you think of something!" Ranma scowled.

Mint, who had just narrowly avoided having one of the jianshi sink its fangs into his shoulder, called out another suggestion.

"Wasn't there something about nailing seeds into their back?"

"Lime!" Ranma yelled, willing to try anything, "Ya still got those jujube berries?"

"Yeah, but they're not going to do you much good," the tiger retorted, "How do you expect to hammer them into its back?"

"Just give 'em up!"

Lime knocked the jiangshi in front of him away before tossing Ranma the bag of berries. He grabbed a hand full and thrust them into his mouth, wincing at the sour taste as he stripped the fruit from the pips. Still fighting the monster-Nuan, he nearly chocked, but managed to gain a moment's reprieve. He spat the seeds into his hand, clenching his fist around them and setting his mind to the task of getting _behind_ Nuan.

The technique was actually one Shampoo had been learning the last time he had seen her. It focused on using a combination of herbs and pressure points to strip someone of their memory. It was supposed to work on the scalp, but things like this were adapted all the time. All Ranma could think about was how fragile the jiangshi's skin had been. He might not need to hammer them in, but if he was fast enough he could use his hand to do it instead.

"This is gonna be gross," he muttered and launched himself at Nuan's back.

His arms moved in a blur as he tried to place each of the seeds over a ki point in the body. He ignored the way it felt and the cry of rage the jiangshi made. He especially ignored the smell. This close to the creature he could smell the rot and decay. It made him want to gag!

But he did it. He leapt backward, wiping his hands off on his shirt and watched to see if there was any effect.

The jiangshi screamed and stumbled forward, twisting in on itself and reaching behind its back to try claw out the seeds. Ranma winced as the black claws dug into the rotting, molding flesh. Then, just when he thought it was going to tear itself to pieces, it straightened back up and went at him again. This time though, it was limping to one side with only its left arm raised. It wasn't hopping anymore either.

The seeds hadn't stopped the jiangshi, but it had slowed the creature down. Ranma was about to grin with triumph, but the jiangshi suddenly leapt, claws and teeth flaring. He jumped back to avoid it, but not in time to stop its nails from tearing into the front of his shirt.

The material ripped off and Ranma gasped, feeling like knives had run across his flesh. He looked down to see spots of blood pooling and staining the remains of his shirt. It was shallow, thankfully.

Everything was a blur after that. Herb was yelling commands, even as they were slowly surrounded by more of the monsters.

"I'm going to blast them," Herb said hurriedly, "When I do, we split off and run. Ranma, you're with me. Mint and Lime, stick together. Everyone ready?"

They nodded.

The air around Herb _burned_.

Ranma had to avert his eyes from the sheer brilliance of the ki attack Herb sent at the jiangshi. The forest exploded, flattening out the bamboo trees within the immediate area. For seconds, Ranma could only stare, dazed. He had never seen anything so powerful in his life.

He was jolted back to reality when Herb grabbed his arm and pulled.

The blast had hit the jiangshi, knocking them back, but it hadn't stopped them. Mint and Lime were already gone. Ranma ran to catch up with Herb, following the older boy's lead. They could hear the creatures screaming and yowling behind them.

"Faster!" Herb urged.

Ranma ran faster than he had ever run in his life. His limbs shook with the blood pumping through his body. He could hear the _doof, doof, doof_ , of his heart thundering in his chest. They weaved through the bamboo, knocking and stumbling as everything was plunged into darkness and shadow.

The screaming got closer.

"Get behind me!" Herb snarled, pulling Ranma and turning to aim another ki attack as one of the creatures blasted through the bamboo. It knocked it backwards again, but in less time than before, it was back on its feet and urging towards them.

"Your attacks aren't working on them!" Ranma yelled, dragging Herb behind him.

"But that-" Herb shook himself as he ran, "That's not possible!"

"We'll figure it out later, lets just go!" he looked back as he ran, trying to see if Mint and Lime were following. They'd split off to confuse the creatures, but now Ranma wasn't so sure he liked the plan at all.

He looked over his shoulder, seeing a mass of the jiangshi approach through the darkness and realized something.

The one Herb had just hit was moving slower than before.

 _But why…?_

Then it clicked in.

"Hit them again!" he yelled.

Herb glared.

"Its not working!"

"Just do it!" Ranma snapped.

Herb, surprisingly, didn't argue. He rounded back and sent another blast of ki, just as big as the first one. Once again, the jiangshi were knocked backwards, only to get up again. They all appeared a bit more sluggish though, almost like they were getting disinterested.

"They're feeding off the ki!" Ranma realized, "Do it again!"

"Are you crazy?" Herb cried, "If I'm just feeding them-"

"Exactly! It's slowin' them down! Look!"

Herb looked this time, really looked. His golden eyes went wide as they judged the scene. He nodded and readied another attack. This time, the jiangshi didn't get up as quickly and some turned off in a different direction altogether.

"Okay, lets go-"

Ranma was cut off when a jiangshi slammed into him from behind. He went face first in the dirt, struggling to roll over. He felt something near the back of his neck. A cold, rasping breath that shouldn't belong to a corpse. Terrified, he held his breath as instinct took over. It wasn't the same fear that came with cats, he didn't feel that mad rush to get away, but instead felt like everything in him had frozen. He didn't want to die!

He clenched his teeth, disgusted with himself, when he realized the jiangshi had stopped moving on top of him. There was a bright, white light that could only come from Herb, a sharp cracking sound followed by a grunt and the presence was gone altogether, allowing Ranma to finally breath.

"Get up!" he felt strong hands grip him, pulling him to his feet, "We have to – gah!"

Herb bent forward, clutching his left leg and wincing in pain. Ranma remembered the crack he'd heard. He immediately pulled Herb's arm over his shoulders, making the older boy lean on him.

"Lets go!" he said quickly, already moving.

Herb didn't say anything, wincing as he was forced to hobble against Ranma.

Time became meaningless to Ranma after that, all he could think about was getting away as quickly as possible. The sky continued to darken as they ran, plunging them into darkness as they scrambled through the trees. Ranma only slowed when visibility became difficult, training his ears for any sound that the jiangshi were following.

"I think – I think we lost 'em," Ranma panted, still holding the Musk prince up.

"For now," Herb agreed, still stiff, "We have to find the others. They…we have to find them."

Ranma just nodded, his stomach clenching. They'd gotten lucky. Real lucky. Herb's ki blasts had slowed down the creatures enough for them to escape, but Mint and Lime didn't have that advantage.

Slowly, the night began to light up. Ranma looked up to see the moon hanging heavily in the sky, its silvery sheen shining through the bamboo leaves.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked aloud, frowning at the night sky, "It can't be this late already."

Herb made a sound of agreement, his expression blank.

Ranma opened his mouth to say something more, then stopped himself as a sound caught his ears.

"Ya hear somethin'?" Ranma asked the prince.

"A flute," Herb frowned, "That's…unexpected."

Ranma agreed.

The melodious sound echoed ominously through the trees. The wind picked it up; sending it cascading through the mountainside so it was impossible to tell what direction the melody was coming from. It was haunting. The kind of music that reached down into your soul and made the hairs stand on the back of your neck. Like a siren's call to beckon the unwary traveler, it had a beguiling, unearthly quality.

It set Ranma's teeth on edge.

"I thought this mountain was supposed to be some tourist getaway," he said hotly, shifting to get a better grip on the prince's arm, "I can't imagine it'd be too popular with a bunch of zombies running about."

"Jiangshi," the prince corrected, sounding mildly amused, "And they were hopping."

"Oh whatever," Ranma rolled his eyes, "Lets just –"

He stopped, because another sound had joined the flute. It was the rush of wind and the faint wailing in the night. He felt Herb tense beside him and started pulling the prince along faster.

"We've gotta get outta here!" he hissed, "Lean on me a little more, we've got to move faster!"

Herb, surprisingly, didn't argue.

With a hobbling prince struggling, but somehow managing, to keep up with the pace and Ranma trying very hard to move quickly without tripping, the two darted away from the sound.

 **~R1/2~**

They were on their scent in moments, Mint knew, as he and Lime dashed through the trees. His wolf blood knew the feel of a hunt, knew the drive of a pack, and knew what it was to scent blood in the air. What he'd never known was to feel like the prey. Like a hapless rabbit running for its life.

The feeling wasn't pleasant.

His sensitive ears picked up the wailing and the snarling of jiangshi from somewhere behind them, but he was too distracted to notice how far exactly. Real fear pumped through him and he had to focus on running to keep from letting it cripple him. He knew the story of jiangshi, the reanimated corpses of those who never found home again. By the end of the night, he might be one of them. A restless monster wandering the earth, never able to find his proper resting place.

He shuddered.

No, not the time to think like that. He wasn't going to die.

 _But…_

In the same breath, he hoped they were following them, _hunting_ them. As long as they weren't after Herb. Because above all else, Mint was a bodyguard and it was his sacred duty, as it had been for generations of his family, to guard the Musk royal family. Someone from his family – as with Lime's – had always remained close to the heirs.

And more than that, Herb was his childhood friend. They'd been together since before they could talk. He looked up to him more than anyone else.

He didn't like being separated like this.

Then he thought of Ranma and felt a little better. The Amazon boy was strong, surprisingly so, if he was with Herb he had every confidence he'd do everything he could to keep him safe.

This small relief didn't last very long.

Three jiangshi were on them, snarling and screaming in that unearthly manner. Mint felt a stab of fear course through him as he leapt into a defensive position, back to back with Lime. There was no way they could stop them. No way to save themselves.

Mint swallowed hard.

Well, he wasn't going down without a fight.

As he prepared an attack, a voice rang through the air.

"Hold your breath!"

He looked around, startled by the command.

"Wha –"

"They can't see you if you hold your breath!" the voice yelled.

Mint obeyed automatically, willing to try anything. Lime must have done the same, because to both boy's surprise, the jiangshi suddenly looked confused. Before Mint could wonder at where the voice had come from, a figure burst through the trees, crashing into the jiangshi with a long staff and making them hiss with anger and pain.

Mint could only watch in awe.

The man was dressed in the yellow robes of a Taoist priest and carried a thick wooden staff, which he was using to defend against the jiangshi. His hair was long and black, running straight down his back in a thick braid. It whipped about as he moved, slithering through the air. He paused once in Mint's direction, affording him a look at the man's narrow face and bright, green eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness.

"Cumin?" he spluttered, recognizing his fellow tribesman.

The older man shot him a positively feline grin, before jamming the butt of his staff into a jiangshi's stomach. He pulled out a piece of paper and slapped it onto his opponent's head, making a sign with his hand and muttering something unintelligible. The jiangshi froze in place.

He spun round and managed to do the exact same thing to the other two, before all became still again in the forest. Cumin took in a deep breath, planting his staff and placing his free hand on his hip, striking a pose as he did.

"There's nothing like a fight to get the blood moving," he announcing, looking up to the sky, "Send your worst, you old hag! I'm ready for you!"

Mint sagged in relief. Even if Cumin had always been a little on the eccentric side, he'd never been happier in his life to see the mad priest again.

 **~R1/2~**

All Ranma could see through the shadows of the bamboo trees were streams of moonlight, threading through the leaves to dance across the forest ground. It didn't take them long before the sounds of the hungry jiangshi became quieter and the flute grew louder and louder.

They'd moved in silence for a time, each concentrating on what might be hiding in the shadows.

"You recognized one of them…the jaingshi," Herb said suddenly.

"So did you," Ranma tried to deflect. When a tense silence followed, he hazarded a look to his side and found the prince staring at him, eyebrow raised.

"Nuan," he said finally, "She was village champion more times in a row than anyone else. She travels a lot. I don't think anyone back home knows – "

He cut off.

He was going to have to tell them.

"Four Musk warriors, an Amazon…" Herb shook his head, 'The rest could have come from anywhere."

"What are you on about?" Ranma snapped.

The prince gave a mirthless smile.

"I was right," he gave a bitter laugh, "I was right."

Ranma frowned.

"Right about what?" he asked, "Damn it Herb, if you know how she ended up like that –"

"I don't," Herb cut him off soberly, "Not that, but…the disappearances. Not just Musk warriors, but others too. Its all connected. Somehow, its all connected."

"What are you on about?" Ranma grunted, masking his surprise over the prince's admission. _Maybe the pain in his leg is getting to him._

Herb shook his head.

"Later," he grunted, "When we've found the others."

The flute stopped suddenly, leaving a dead silence. The sound of their heavy breathing broke it somewhat, but even the wind had died down so that not even the rustle of leaves met their ears. The moon had moved behind a cloud, plunging them into darkness once more. Ranma squinted, trying to see a way forward when two things happened.

First, he could smell something. It was a sweet, meaty scent, like the smell of cooked pork. It made his stomach growl and his mouth water. When had he gotten so hungry? Even Herb perked up a little at the scent.

"Maybe someone's camping nearby," he suggested.

They wandered on through the trees, feeling their way in the darkness, when they hit something unexpected.

A solid, high structure was before them, stretching out on either side. Looking up, Ranma could see the faint glow of firelight peeking over the top and making shadows dance over them. It must be a fence! Which meant there was a house on the other side and that light must be from a fire. Feeling an insurgence of hope, Ranma and Herb started making their way round to find an entrance.

It was still too dark to see, so Ranma kept his free hand out to follow the fence.

Ranma frowned slightly, not sure what the hard substance under his hand was. It didn't feel like stone or wood. Smooth to the touch, but different somehow and he couldn't quite place _how_. Whatever it was made from, each piece of it was long and rounded, trapped together securely with some type of cement. He felt along the wall, hoping to find the entrance. For several long moments, there was nothing, then he came across something that seemed promising.

He felt a different set of textures, his hand coming into contact with rope and etched metal. _Hinges! The gate! It must be the gate!_ It was high, like the wall, so Ranma suspected the catch was somewhere near the top. He stretched a hand up to feel for it. He floundered for a moment and then found the catch.

He frowned slightly, it felt odd too.

Like the substance the fence was made from, but with unevenness at the bottom of the catch. It felt strangely familiar, but he couldn't place the sensation.

He flipped it up, opening the gate.

Almost simultaneously, a series of torches on the posts of the fence flared to life, illuminating the darkness with an orange light. Still gripping Herb, Ranma tried hard not to give a start at the sight before him. He barely heard the creak of the gate as it swung open onto a small yard.

He was too busy staring.

The fence was made from human bones. Skulls decorated the posts, staring at him through eyeless sockets. And the catch on the gate he had been feeling, it was a human jawbone. The unevenness he had felt had come from a set of teeth.

Bile rose in his throat.

He hazarded a look into the yard, but all he could see was a small hut in the centre. Outside shone a cook fire, the embers of the flame burning low. Above them rested a very large cook pot.

Large enough to fit a person.

This time, he really did vomit, realizing what the sweet, meaty smell he and Herb had been picking up must be. The prince stood beside him, face drawn pale and eyes fixed on the murder house before them.

Maybe they had wandered into a horror movie after all.

 **~R1/2~**

 **A/N:** Another late chapter, sorry this should have been up last month. This one turned out a little tougher to write than I thought.

So, technically speaking a jiangshi is a vampire. But more of a zombie-vampire blend, so I didn't mislead you completely. I'd strongly recommend typing jiangshi into YouTube and seeing what comes up, because there's _a lot_ to explain. There's a good overview, some clips from horror movies they've appeared and a how to on defeating jiangshi.

Mount Mogan is an actual place that was named after a famous sword smith and his wife from the Warring States era in China. (And yes, the story about them contains a lot of decapitation.) In the early twentieth century many foreigners moved in and built their holiday homes there, and though these were taken over during the communist revolution, it remains a popular tourist destination today.

Thanks again for the amazing response, until next time!


	8. Something Wicked

**Something Wicked**

Ranma tried to back peddle, pulling Herb along with him. There were jiangshi waiting for them out there, but somehow it seemed preferable to being trapped in an unknown cannibalistic lair. But as he took a step backwards, the screaming started again. The wind began to howl, pushing at their backs. Herb gave a yelp as he was propelled forwards by invisible hands, dragging Ranma in with him. The boys tumbled into the yard and the gate swung shut behind them with a sharp _clack!_

Ranma dragged himself to his feet.

"What happened?" he demanded, eyes scanning the area for any threat.

"Something pushed me in," Herb said, looking bewildered and unsure for the first time Ranma had known him.

He felt his stomach clench uncomfortably.

He tried the gate, but it was shut tight. The screaming had halted again, leaving the night deadly silent.

"Come on," Ranma said hurriedly, getting the prince to his feet, "If you hold onto me, I can jump the fence."

Herb's golden eyes darted around the yard, before he nodded and allowed Ranma to get a grip around his waist and shoulder.

"Alright," Ranma said, looking at the fence, _did it seem higher now?_ "Lets go-"

His feet had barely left the ground when something solid collided into his chest, pressing both boys on their backs to the ground. Ranma chocked as the wind was knocked out of him and his vision blurred from the sudden lack of oxygen. The moon and stars danced for a sickening moment, before everything righted itself again. The pressure disappeared and the boys sat up, gasping.

"But," Ranma rasped out, "I didn't see anything."

Herb remained oddly silent.

"Come on," Ranma said determinedly, "We're not staying here!"

He yanked Herb up again and prepared to make the jump. Again, the same thing happened, though this time the two were flung even further back and closer to the hut.

"What the hell?!" Ranma snarled, anger overriding his fear as the pressure again subsided, "Fine! I'll just smash your stupid wall down!"

He leapt to his feet, dashing towards the fence of bone, fist raised.

"Ranma!" Herb yelled, still on the ground, "Don't!"

Too late, Ranma's fist collided with the fence. There was a loud, dull thud and the bones began to shift and move. They rippled out over each other like water before setting back into their original positions. As they did, there was a pause. Everything was silent and then…

"Gah!" Ranma cried out as he felt an invisible fist strike him in the gut, sending him sprawling backwards to the ground again.

He winced, getting to his feet immediately and charging at the fence once more with a cry of rage and frustration. It was no use though. He jumped back this time after punching the fence, but the fist still found him.

"Are you done yet?" Herb drawled as he watched Ranma claw himself up from the dust for a third time.

Ranma just grunted, staring at the fence like it was just another opponent. It certainly acted that way. He tried to jump out and it pushed him down. He tried to hurt it and it responded in kind. He couldn't just smash a hole through the fence; he had to find a way to destroy it completely. But what in his arsenal could even scratch the surface of this thing?

 _The Breaking Point…_

Ranma shook his head, irritably. He couldn't sense the 'fault lines' in this pile of bones. There seemed to be a living energy exuding from them as though they _were_ animate beings. It made everything blur together, giving him a headache trying to look for it. He glanced at Herb and canceled out one of the prince's ki blasts. If this thing returned fire against them, there was no telling what it would do if they resorted to that kind of power. Plus, Herb was already looking beat and he'd rather they had the ki to use against the jiangshi. He tapped his foot impatiently, trying to find a way out of this trap.

He stopped.

And tapped his foot again.

The earth was surprisingly hard, and dry too.

He looked down at his finger.

What if he didn't attack the fence, but the ground _underneath_ the fence?

A grim smile lit his face and he rolled his shoulders in anticipation. He picked a spot at the base of the wall and charged.

" _Bakusai Tenketsu!_ " he roared, willing his attack to work.

His finger found the spot and the earth exploded.

He backed away as pieces of rock, soil and bone showered the immediate area. By destroying the foundation, he'd uprooted the fence, shattering it to pieces with the force. A huge cry of triumph left his lips as he eyed the huge hole he'd made. He turned quickly to the prince, already bending forward to scoop him up. As he did, the ground began to tremble. Ranma froze, twisting around to see the bone fragments shimmer and begin to move. His ragged breath became visible as the coldness returned to the air. The pieces shot towards each other, fitting together to reform the bone fence once more. The earth was still upturned, but the fence looked like he hadn't made a scratch on it. Worse still, it looked taller than ever.

Ranma felt his jaw drop, his eyes wide.

"How-?" he started, only to feel that invisible force slam into him once more, pushing him to the ground. He landed on his back, skidding headfirst through the dust and the dirt. He vaguely heard Herb call his name, but Ranma was too preoccupied with trying to breath.

Eventually he came to a stop. The pressure on his chest released and he gasped and choked, trying to force air back into his lungs. His head ached and it felt like an elephant had decided to tap dance over him.

A sound caught his attention and then something small and sharp poked him on the forehead. He gave a start, sitting up despite his pain and looked round blearily at his attacker.

 _A chicken?_

Ranma shook his head, trying to clear the hallucination away. Except, the chicken stayed right where it was, cocking its head to the side and clucking loudly. It was a fat, grey hen with a speckled neck.

He prodded it to see if it was real, only to snap his hand back just as quickly when a piece of bamboo appeared out of nowhere to rap his fingers.

"Hey!" he cried and looked up realizing for the first time that there was someone else there. He leapt to his feet immediately, backing away from the stranger.

The woman was as old and stooped as Cologne, with the same long grey hair, but that was where the similarities ended. She was taller, for one, coming up to Ranma's chest and her thin, wiry frame made him think of the twisted branches of a tree. She stared at him, sallow cheeked and with a frightening pair of clouded eyes.

 _Blind, maybe?_

She wore a scraggly robe and carried in one hand a bamboo staff, the very same she had used to knock away Ranma's hand. Her robe was made up of dirty chicken feathers, all in greys and browns. It hung off her lean frame awkwardly, making her appear even thinner. She snarled at him and he was treated to the sight of a jaw full of very sharp, very yellow teeth.

 _Does she sharpen her teeth or something_? He wondered incredulously, _those are like fangs!_

It reminded him of the jiangshi and he cringed.

"Don't touch my chickens!" the woman snapped and her voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

Ranma lifted his hands defensively, resisting the urge to put them on his ears.

"I wasn't going to!"

"Boys," she huffed, "Always getting into trouble, never listening to anyone. I should put the lot of you in my pot right now!"

Herb and Ranma's eyes darted to the giant pot, bubbling on the fire. Thinking of the bones surrounding her yard, Ranma gave an audible gulp and shuddered slightly. It wasn't like he was scared or anything, he reasoned with himself stubbornly, but the thought was unpleasant.

"Who are you?" it was Herb who spoke. He was standing up, balancing on his good leg. Despite his obvious discomfort and the damage done to his appearance during their time in the forest, he still stood as tall and proud as when Ranma had first seen him. Hand it to Herb to look dignified covered in scrapes and dirt, his clothing torn and disheveled and standing on one leg.

The woman's clouded eyes snapped to the prince and she bared her teeth at him in a horrific sort of grimace. Her old face seemed to twist around the expression, giving the grotesque impression of a deformed gargoyle.

With a shudder, Ranma realized that was just her smiling.

"I'm just a poor, old woman living on her own," she responded, smoothly.

Herb scoffed.

"You're a spider sitting on her web," he snapped rudely, "Waiting for flies to wander in."

The jagged smile intensified.

"And look at the flies I've caught," she cackled, "A prince and his servant."

She laughed at some private joke. Ranma flinched at the sound. It had a harsh, clanging quality to it, almost like someone was banging two metal pots together. He opened his mouth to tell her just what he thought about being called a servant, but a warning look from Herb halted him.

"Are you the one keeping us trapped?" the prince pushed forward, shifting his gaze back to the woman – the witch.

She stopped.

"And if I am?" she asked sweetly.

"I want to know your purpose," Herb's eyes narrowed, "And I want to know what you know of the jiangshi on this mountain."

Ranma stilled, waiting to see how she would answer.

It was cold again. The air around them chilled to an almost uncomfortable level. The red glow of the torches cast shadows, shifting as the flames flickered. In the dim light, they made spectators of the strange scene. The woman's yellow teeth flashed in a predatory manner as her sightless eyes stayed on the two boys.

"Ah," she said slowly, "So you noticed."

"Noticed what?" Ranma blurted out, confused.

The woman laughed again.

"Slow, isn't he?" she said to Herb, cocking her head in Ranma's direction.

Herb gave her a sardonic sort of smile.

"He's learning," he replied, folding his arms over his chest.

"Hey!" Ranma protested, glaring from one to the other, though they weren't looking his way at all, "Hey! What's goin' on?"

For an intense moment, no one spoke.

"Think about it Ranma," Herb said finally, "Don't you remember your lore on jiangshi? It takes them a few hundred years to get to the stage we saw them tonight. There's no way in hell our tribesmen could have reached that point in little over a year. Someone accelerated their transformation."

Ranma would never claim to remember _any_ lore on jiangshi, apart from what he'd seen in those cheesy kung fu films, but if what Herb said was true…

" _Her_?" he asked, pointing a finger at the old woman, "How?"

"That's what I'd like to know," the prince said, his eyes never leaving the woman.

Ranma was also reluctant to take his eyes off her. It felt like a very bad idea. She didn't give off a battle aura, per say, but there was something heavy and intimidating about her. It struck Ranma as an oppressive, dampening presence that made him feel trapped more than the bone cage could.

The chicken clucked and pecked at the ground by her feet, seeming unperturbed by the tension. Ranma half realized he was holding his breath and forced the air back out with deliberate slowness.

Drumming her fingers on the bamboo staff, the strange woman finally spoke, cocking her head to the side and baring her teeth again.

"I really didn't do anything more than give them an option. They're enslaved to their own anger," she pursed her lips, "I told them there would be a price to pay for revenge. Now they live a fruitless existence, driven only by the need to feed."

"Why haven't they gone after you then?" Herb snapped, glaring hatefully at the old woman.

She smiled, but didn't answer, seeming amused by the suggestion.

"You seem unwell," she said instead, "Leg bothering you?"

"Turn them back!" the prince demanded, his face reddening with anger.

She looked decidedly unimpressed by his outburst. Raising a hand, the strange woman flicked her fingers and a loud crack filled the air. Herb gasped in pain, bending over to clutch his leg and almost losing balance and toppling to the ground.

"Herb!" Ranma cried, rushing forward, "What –?"

The prince blinked, standing straight again. He hesitantly put his leg down again, putting his weight on it again. He stared at the woman with wide eyes.

"Better?" she asked dryly.

"How-?" he choked.

"I have my ways," she said dismissively, "And I don't feel like anymore chatter. They're a warning. The only one I'm giving you, heed it well."

Ranma snapped his head between the two again, fear squeezing his chest. She'd healed Herb. With a flick of her hand, she'd _fixed_ him! Warning bells were ringing in his head, increasing in volume with every passing moment. Then what she said registered in his head and he stared in confusion.

"The jiangshi?" he asked, "They're the warning?"

She didn't answer, but her sightless gaze swiveled to him.

"I'd have thought they'd be the problem," he finished lamely.

"Nothing a man among men can't handle," she snorted.

Ranma stiffened, shifting back slightly at her words. He didn't need the reminder that his woman was more than she appeared. A cautioning look from Herb kept his mouth silent. He wondered if she was some kind of witch or perhaps a demon or spirit. He'd grown up half listening to such tales. There were the _wu_ , shamans who delved into dreams, summoned spirits and called the rain from the sky. They were healers, if he remembered right.

But thinking of her threat to toss them into her cook pot, Ranma doubted there was anything good about this woman.

 _So what was she?_

He didn't want to find out, but how were they to escape? Even with Herb mobile again, how could they escape the invisible force that kept them trapped?

Those pointed yellow teeth flashed again as she gave an awful grimace.

Or was that meant to be a smile?

"Basil," Herb blurted out firmly, "Where is Basil?"

The white gaze shifted back to the prince and Ranma could feel the tension ebbing away from him.

"Not here," she said quietly, "Never was here. The men I rose were already dead."

Herb frowned.

"Why warn us like this? What are you warning us about?" he asked carefully.

The old woman actually flinched, looking annoyed.

"I gave you everything you need to know about what you're dealing with," she said indignantly, "Something comes to destroy you all. Take heed prince."

Herb opened his mouth to speak again, but the old woman had her hand up in an angry gesture.

"You've had your three questions," she snapped and bated her hand in his direction.

The invisible force rocked into Herb, sending him sprawling backwards in the dust. Ranma gave out a shout of surprise, rushing over to help the young dragon, but before he could move, the witch charged forward. She grabbed him, wrapping a bony hand around his throat and holding him in place. Ranma struggled to break free, hands clawing at hers as he tried to get out of her grip. She was strong though; even using one hand she was stronger than he was. He might as well be a chicken whose neck she had decided to wring. He flailed, chocking as her grip restricted the oxygen going to his lungs. Black spots swam in his vision.

"Hush now," she said softly, voice grating on him.

He couldn't make a sound, he could hardly breathe. Hot tears welled at the corners of his eyes and he still scratched desperately at the hand wrapped around his throat. He was dizzy. His hands tried again to reach for her, to struggle and then fell limply at his side. Just when he thought he was going to pass out, the grip on his neck loosened, allowing him to breathe again.

He sucked in air like he never had before, coughing and spluttering to get it all in. Everything was still spinning and she was still holding him in place, like a mother cat carrying its kitten. His limbs felt weak.

"There now," she dropped her staff, he heard it thud to the ground, "Lets get a look at you, boy."

She stroked a hand down his chest, pressing her fingers into the gashes left from the jiangshi's long, black nails. Ranma hissed out in pain as she drew blood, reopening the fresh wounds.

She lifted the bloodstained finger to her nose and gave a long, noisy sniff. A smile curled her lips as sightless eyes strayed to Ranma's face.

"The oath still holds," she said quietly, as though confirming something to herself, "Poor boy."

She frowned deeply then, the crags in her face increasing.

"You're very late," she said, still making no sense to Ranma, "Maybe too late. It's already been stolen."

She stared at him, long and hard.

"I know your eyes, child," she said softly, "Though it has been centuries since I beheld them."

She sniffed again.

"So much has changed since then," she seemed to be speaking to herself now, "But the blood remains strong."

She reached up to pet him on the cheek, smearing his face with his own blood. It felt hot and sticky on his skin, making him flinch in disgust.

"You should be grateful," she said with a manic sort of grin, "I don't usually pay attention to such events, but it was all rather entertaining. I wonder how you'll pull it all off."

She tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"I will answer three questions, I think," she said softly, "Choose wisely."

"You didn't," he ground out shakily, "Tell Herb that."

"I didn't?" she looked at the unconscious prince, "Must be my age. Hurry now, boy, I don't have all night."

He glared at her.

"Oh, very well. Listen," the witch hissed, running a dirty fingernail down Ranma's chest, "Tell your prince he's right to look for signs. Something is coming. Something no one man can stop."

"I don't understand," Ranma blurted, "What do you mean?"

She didn't speak for so long, Ranma wasn't sure she would answer.

"It is something from long ago," she answered finally, "Something that should never have been made."

Ranma opened his mouth to ask more, but then thought better. That was one question wasted already and her answer had been vague. He couldn't waste anymore like that.

"Who killed them, the Musk warriors?" he asked, wetting his lips.

"Hmm," she tapped her chin thoughtfully, "His name is Shouzu."

A name. He had a name. That was a start.

"Where is he?"

"He's moving west," she paused for a moment, looking away into nothing for a long moment, "Always moving. He's still searching for it."

"Searching for what?" Ranma asked.

She smiled. Her teeth were rotten too.

"You've had your three questions," she told him, tapping his nose like he was a troublesome child, "You surprised me. You could have asked me anything, even about your mother."

Ranma stiffened, eyes widening.

"Is that regret?" she asked.

Ranma shook himself.

"No," he said stubbornly.

She laughed at him again.

"But I'm generous. So I will give you a piece of advice too," her grip tightened

Ranma tried to protest, but she held him tight.

"Leave China," she intoned, "See the world while you can. This land will have your blood and your bones before its done with you. It will mark you, _curse_ you. So run. Run away as far as you can, while you can."

"That makes no sense!" Ranma chocked out, appalled by the women's words. Why would he leave? His family was here. The only life he'd ever known was here!

 _Not the only life_ , a snide voice hissed in his mind.

Ranma ignored it.

"You've thought about it already," she carried on, "Leaving. You should follow your instincts. It'll catch up with you if you don't."

He shook his head in denial. How the hell had she known? Known the thoughts in his head from only a week ago? She couldn't, that's how! She was bluffing, trying to throw him off his guard. Yes, he had his doubts about the way of life the Amazons, and even the Musk, followed. The priority placed on honour over human life. The merciless attitude towards outsiders. The laws that forced people to do things for the most senseless of reasons. Yes, he knew he wouldn't stay in China forever, but that didn't mean he was going to run away. For everything he didn't like, there was just as much that he did. When he left China, it was going to be on _his_ terms. It was going to be with the support of his family and his village. It was going to be so that he could learn more, see more, and _become_ more. It had been his father's last wish that he become 'the best' and Ranma really wanted that too. But there was still more to learn in China.

He wasn't going to flee with his tail between his legs because some crazy old witch on a mountain told him to.

She seemed to read him again, for her eyes flashed with amusement and the grip on his throat tightened just a fraction. Ranma fought hard not to choke.

She leaned in closer; her chapped lips were a breath from Ranma's right ear.

"You feel it, don't you?" she whispered, "There's too much connecting you here already. You're rooted. Go, before it destroys you. Before you get swept up in the coming storm."

He shuddered. She was mad! Insane! Nothing that came out of her mouth made any sense at all!

Finally, after what seemed an age, she released him. He fell to the ground, nursing his bruised neck and looked up at her blearily.

She was shaking her head.

"You should have listened," she said, and she almost looked _sad_ , "You won't find me again, Ranma Saotome. _Though you will look for me_."

Ranma wanted to retort that he'd rather deal with all her jiangshi again than come looking for the old hag, when he stopped. _You should have listened_. As though she knew what he had decided and pitied him for the choice.

 _Mad, she must be mad!_

Then he realized. She had said Saotome.

Ranma hardly ever used his surname. Amongst the warrior tribes, you associated yourself with the tribe you hailed from first and foremost, not your family name. He'd been introduced as _Ranma of the Amazons_ so often Saotome had grown dusty with disuse. He certainly hadn't used it when they'd first met.

"How'd-?" he started, only to be cut off again.

"Saotome," she sang, "Saotome from Japan."

Then she laughed, sending a chill down Ranma's spine. The words echoed in his head, oddly familiar, though he couldn't place it.

Her laughter grew louder, clanging in his ears. She had him by the throat again, though how or when she had managed it, he couldn't recall. He struggled against her grip, fear making him panic. He couldn't breathe. He could see her eyes and her sharp teeth, but nothing else registered in his brain. Just the laughter. The laughter consumed everything.

"Stop!" he begged, "Stop! Stop _! Stop!"_

The pressure on his throat increased. He felt dizzy, disorientated. Black spots swam before his eyes again. He'd never felt so helpless…. _No. No, that wasn't right_. He'd felt this helpless before.

 _Cats._ There were _so_ many cats. He could feel the claws on his skin, the scratching, the mewling and hissing. The smell of fish made him want to gag! He hated fish. It hurt, _everything_ hurt. He'd crawl out, just to be thrown back in again. Over and over and over again... Then there was blackness. Just blackness.

Daddy's face finally broke the darkness. He looked worried. Daddy never looked like that. He never looked so scared. Everything was broken around him, there were angry voices coming from somewhere and everything _hurt_.

He smelled fish.

He _hated_ fish.

Daddy was holding him. Daddy's arms were warm.

He smelled fish.

He smelled _blood._

And there was blackness.

 _Anger_. Hot, blistering anger surged through him. He felt betrayed and suddenly, Daddy wasn't _Daddy_ anymore, he was _Pops_. Ranma loved Daddy and he loved Pops, but he _hated_ Pops too.

 _Laughter_. Laughter rang in his ears, louder and louder _and louder…_

But Daddy was gone. Daddy was gone and Pops was gone too.

 _Daddy's dead…Daddy's dead…Daddy's dead…Daddy's dead…_

A cruel, whining, childlike voice echoed over the laughter, drowning him. He was dragging the dead weight of his father behind him. He stumbled and fell. He cut himself on rocks, he tasted dirt and tried to ignore the rage and the worry and the fear.

 _Fear._ The fear cut at him, tore at him like the cats in the pit. Digging into his skin and drawing blood. In the back of his head he could hear something meowing and growling. He was terrified of it, _that_ presence. He hated it, but he _needed_ it. Because it fed on the fear. It took it all and grew stronger, which was something he couldn't do on his own. He didn't want it there, but… _he needed it._

Because even after everything he did, Daddy still died and there was nothing Ranma could do to stop it.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" he couldn't hear the words coming out of his mouth, but his throat ached with the effort to be heard.

He was standing in the snow and he was afraid. There was a presence bearing down on him. It was heavy and hot and it made him feel so scared.

 _A family heirloom. A sword._

No, it was more than that. It was something else. Something hungry. So, _so_ hungry and it wanted _him_. It was going to eat him up. He stared at the graves in the snow and he was afraid.

 _You made a bargain, Ranma._

 _Guilt._ The lifeless eyes in the severed head of a black haired woman stared at him accusingly. He made a deal. He promised something he couldn't understand. _He_ made the deal. He made the _deal_. _He made the deal…_

"Stop! Stop! Stop!"

He was in the dust again. Everything ached again. Herb was moving towards his family. The foreign prince who came to the village. _A threat_. But he could hardly move. He struggled to even stand! He was helpless… _helpless…helpless…_

"No!" he screamed, "I'm not helpless. _I want to be more!_ I'll become _more_!"

Cologne flashed in his mind, bound to the will of the elders, bound to the traditions of the tribe. Then there was Herb, obeying his father's word even though it destroyed him inside.

 _I'll be better._

Happosai, the man he'd never met, but who had ruined so much. The man who probably deserved punishment, but did that punishment have to mean death?

 _I'll be the best._

Pops. Stupid, selfish Pops. He left his son alone to fend for himself, he didn't have a plan, he didn't think about anyone else. He did what he wanted and damned the consequences. It all caught up with him.

" _I'll be more!"_

The last thought exited his lungs as a cry. The images stopped swirling in his head and the breath could enter his body again. He coughed, noticing the absence of the hand. His vision cleared and he looked around.

She was gone.

It was all gone. The house, the bones and the witch. There was nothing but bamboo surrounding them and the cold light of the moon shining high above. Herb was slumped over not far from him, but that hardly registered.

She was _gone_.

 _You'll look for me_ , a voice laughed in his head, _but you won't find me. You'll never find me._


End file.
